Into the Water
by N3GatorFan
Summary: It's been three months since Jo had learned Henry's secret, and they are having difficulties in adjusting to the new reality. When they pursue a lead in a case, something strange happens. Will its aftermath strengthen their relationship, or will it complicate things further? Post 1x22.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer**_ : The concept, canon, and canon characters belong to _Forever_ creator Matt Miller and Warner Bros. Studios. All other characters, the plot for the story, and Henry's flashbacks are my own creation. I have posted my story here, and I don't profit from it. (Translation: I don't own _Forever_ , but I still want it back.)

 _ **Author's Note**_ : This story picks up two months after the last few minutes of 1x22. There are mild references for every episode that's aired. It is a mini-case fic. I hope that you will enjoy it.

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

Jo couldn't believe that she was doing this. It had been the first time in years since she had gone swimming. The continuing tension that she had felt over the past few months, however, proved that she needed a different way to unwind other than TV and alcohol. This had been the first thing that had popped in her head.

She followed the hallway to the indoor pool. As she strolled down the concrete poolside, she noticed that the building was mostly quiet. A lone man was leisurely swimming a lap in the water. Two more men, engrossed in their conversation, stood beside the pool's deep end.

She walked around the men and placed her duffle bag a few feet away from them. She removed the hairband that created her ponytail, twisted her hair into a bun, and rewound the band around the bunched hair.

Behind her, a familiar voice grunted. "This is much better than you adding yourself to the mixture of either of the two rivers which border our fine borough."

"The use of a clear swimming pool cannot replicate the conditions of the river. Chemical contaminants from the streets, sediment runoff from further upstream, and any algal blooms or gasoline floating on the surface all affect the visibility of any object in or under the water. People are generally more buoyant in brackish water, therefore influencing their ability to stay underwater for any length of time. As for the currents and undercurrents…"

"Fair point. But, do you remember what happened last time you tried to dive into the river? About half of NYPD came to arrest you!"

"It was one officer! And I had the same amount of clothes on that I do now!"

As the men argued, Jo wondered how Henry and Abe knew that she would be here. She had never said anything about it. She didn't even know that she was doing this until after she had woken up this morning. She suddenly remembered that this was one of the few public indoor pools in the city that had a recreational pool open at this time in the morning. She immediately chided herself for being suspicious of the two men.

Maybe she should leave; she didn't want either of them to notice her. Another second of their argument convinced her to stay. Henry was conducting an experiment. As soon as he got the results that he needed, he would leave, and she would have the pool all to herself.

She took her cell phone out of her pocket and checked it for any missed calls and messages. So far, neither Mike nor Lt. Reece had called her. Then again, Mike had a reason to avoid the phone. He, Karen, and their two sons were moving into a new house, and Karen had convinced Mike to spend his free time packing. As she placed her phone into her bag, Jo chuckled at the memory of Mike's crankiness; he had to give up his evening yoga classes to please Karen.

"You can't get out of this; the fee's already paid. Besides, you can get some use out of the swim trunks that everyone bought for you at Christmas."

Jo heard Henry sigh. "They were a well-intentioned gift at my expense…"

She almost smiled at Abe's paternal nature toward Henry. To the outside world, Abe was a concerned father scolding his rebellious adult son. She, however, knew the true nature of their relationship. Three months ago, Henry had told her that he was immortal, that he had been alive for 235 years, and that Abe was his adopted son. Jo immediately believed him. Immortality explained a lot about Henry, including his lack of self-preservation when confronting suspects and his unorthodox methods for solving a case. As she had listened to the details of his life, she had felt as though she was watching a magician reveal his secrets to his assistant.

She glanced down at the floor near her bag. An olive-green sack sat next to hers. She wrinkled her eyebrows, bent over, and studied it. It looked nothing like the ones that she had seen. If anything, it looked as though someone had attached a duffle bag handle onto a very long draw-string bag. Soft ticks from inside the bag told her that it was Henry's.

As she straightened her posture and paced to calm her nerves, her mind drifted to the past three months. So far, she and Henry had been trying to act as though nothing had happened on that fateful day in early May. Like a magician's assistant, however, she now could spot his deviations from the truth and his misdirection every time that they worked a case. Ordinarily, it wouldn't bother her. When she had married Sean, she had learned how to keep people from knowing much about him in order to protect him from the criminals whom he had prosecuted. Sean's and her professional lives had never crossed, and that separation made it easier to keep their life together a secret.

As for Henry's and her professional lives, it was much different. They had been working together constantly since the fatal train crash that brought them together nine months ago. Henry's presence in the field meant that there was a chance that his secret would be exposed during an investigation. One misstep from either person could lead to an internal affairs investigation—and to a lot of questions that neither of them could answer truthfully.

Because of that, Jo could feel herself buckling under the weight of the knowledge of Henry's immortality, and her frustrations were coming out while they were in the field. After one case in which Henry had gone undercover because NYPD couldn't talk to a suspect, she had called him "stiff and formal" in front of their colleagues. In another instance, she had snapped at him and criticized his "patronizing" attitude in front of a witness.

The most recent case was a close call. Their suspect had taken Henry hostage and had used him as a human shield. Jo refused to fire her gun for fear of hitting Henry. As a result, Lt. Reece gave her two options: a return to the gun range for more practice or several sessions with Dr. Lewis Farber to discuss what had happened and why. Knowing that Dr. Farber—Adam—was still suffering from locked-in syndrome, Jo had chosen the former to avoid attracting further attention to herself and to Henry. As she had left Lt. Reece's office, Jo had realized that it was only a matter of time before she accidently exposed Henry's immortality to the world.

She sighed as she continued pacing. In a way, she envied Abe and Abigail; they both had managed to keep Henry's secret throughout their lives with him. Abe had grown up thinking that Henry's immortality was relatively normal, and he had been a near constant in his father's life in spite of the complications of the condition. As for Abigail, she had temporarily separated herself from Henry in order to reassess their relationship, but she had proven her willingness to keep his immortality a secret by taking it with her to her grave.

Jo didn't have Abe's or Abigail's options of coping with the implications of Henry's immortality. Nor did she have the more normal ways of dealing with a development like this. She couldn't take a vacation; she had used all of her vacation time to bury Sean and to recover from the gunshot wound that she had suffered while on the roof of Grand Central Station. Telling Henry to stay off the cases was impossible. Mike had tried once, and Henry had continued investigating the case. She could ask for another medical examiner to work some of her cases, but Henry would immediately know her motive. She couldn't talk to anyone else except for Abe; she would have her sanity questioned. She wondered if she needed to end her and Henry's partnership until she could clear her mind and decide what she wanted to do next.

Most people would had exercised that last option long before now. One look at the scar near her right shoulder this morning had reminded her of why she hadn't. She vaguely remembered that she and Henry had been through so much during the nine months before his revelation. He and Abe were the only people whom she could discuss her experiences with. That, however, wasn't a strong enough basis to continue their partnership—or to adequately protect his secret.

The pool's glistening water caught her eye. If she wanted to swim, she couldn't keep her mind on her current train of thought. She suddenly felt a little awkward about changing in front of Henry. No matter what she thought of him at the moment, he _was_ her partner, and this was something that should be done in private.

Fortunately, Henry's focus on his story and Abe's body provided her with the cover that she needed. She quickly removed her blue blouse and her black dress pants, revealing a black one-piece swimsuit. She folded her clothes and placed them in her duffle bag.

As she straightened herself, she heard Henry's voice trailed off. Maybe he had thought that Abe had a point and that it was time to start his experiment. She turned around and looked at him. He blinked as a smile spread on his face. "Good morning, Detective. I'm sorry; I was lost in thought."

She could feel her cheeks warm. Henry had the same look on his face as he had had when she had worn her black dress into the morgue about four months ago. To stop the blush, she averted her eyes to Abe.

Abe turned to her. "Hey, Jo! What are you doing here?"

"I needed to get out of the house this morning." Her eyes darted from son to father before she glanced down at the ground. She hoped that neither of them would catch her lie.

"What do you mean…?" Before Abe could finish his question, his cell phone rang. He pulled it out and looked curiously at the number. "I got to take this." He tapped the screen and walked toward the entrance.

Jo looked at Henry. "The case?"

He glanced down toward the ground for a moment. "Given the small amount of water in the lungs and the discrepancy between the witness' statement and the amount of rigor mortis in the victim's body, I have some questions about what had happened, and I hope that this will clear them up."

She nodded as she placed his observations into context. Early yesterday morning, Rodney Ginsberg, an art insurer, had been found floating face up in a shallow portion of the East River. The only witness, Hunter Downey, had told them and Mike that he had found Rodney in the river and that Rodney was clutching something, possibly a key, in his hand. Yet, Henry's visual autopsy had revealed that there was nothing there at his time of death, and CSU didn't find anything unusual in or near the river.

The lilt of Henry's voice pulled Jo out of her memory. "I know that it's difficult to deal with…"

She knew what he wanted to discuss. "I'll survive." She instantly regretted her curt tone.

They stood in silence, and Jo listened to the waves. She wished that she knew what to talk about with him. When she and Mike had become partners, she had quickly learned everything about him. With Henry, though, she felt like what she had learned was the tip of the iceberg—the size of Mount Everest. It made her wonder who the man behind the immortal was.

Jo suddenly felt a bump, and she almost fell into Henry. "Hey!" She turned to see the offender. Surprisingly, the pool's lone occupant walked away from them.

"Are you okay?"

She looked at Henry and nodded. He quickly examined her and then caught up to the man. "Excuse me, but I believe that you owe her an apology."

"I don't speak to anyone of her station." Jo wanted to punch Henry's fellow Brit for that comment.

Henry matched the man's steps. "During their war with us, the Americans had declared that they would establish a society void of the vestiges of feudalism and mercantilism. Whether they had lived up to their ideals is a topic for another discussion." The man slowed to a stop. "That, however, does not give gentlemen the right to exercise ill manners toward any member of the fairer sex."

The man spun around and snatched Henry's right wrist. Henry stood transfixed by the man's piercing blue eyes. Jo felt like she couldn't move either. "You seemed to have forgotten who you are. Maybe you should return home and remind yourself of your heritage." He quickly released Henry's arm and silently stormed off.

Henry headed back to Jo. A couple of steps into his walk, Henry turned his head back to the man. "For someone who was quite insistent on your manners, he had seemed to have forgotten his." He unconsciously rubbed his right wrist as though a manacle had been enclosed around it just a few moments before.

Jo's heart raced. _How much does he know about Henry?_ "Do you suppose…?"

"I don't believe so. I had asked Abe to drive me to the river this morning, and he had driven me here instead. When we had arrived, he was already here." His eyes travelled to the pool. "Which reminds me…" With that, he sat down on the edge, swung his legs into the water, and slid in.

"Henry!" Immortal or not, she wasn't going to watch him die. Her fears abated when he suddenly bobbed up out of the water and turned to face her.

"It looks like Jo found a way to convince you to get into the water." A smiling Abe joined them.

Jo's curiosity about Abe's mysterious caller got the better of her. "Who called you?"

"Jerry, my locksmith friend. He has this old box that he wants to me to look at." Abe looked at his father, who had drawn himself up onto the edge and had crossed his arms in front of him. "Do you mind finding another way to work this morning?"

"I'll be fine. One piece of advice, though: if the box is a piece of evidence, take it to the precinct. If you don't, you'll get _two_ earfuls, one of which from me." Abe groaned. "Do you remember what happened the last time that you and Jerry had handled evidence?"

"That…" Abe grunted. "Well, I'd better get going." He turned to leave them. "Jo." She nodded, and he waved as he left.

The second that Abe disappeared through the entrance, Jo turned to Henry. "So, how are you going to test your theory about Rodney's drowning?"

"A key is in my bag. It's small enough to mimic the object that he was holding before his death." He unfolded his arms and placed them on the deck.

"I'll get it." She opened the bag. She reached in and felt as though she needed to dive into it. She felt around, finding a towel, his Metro card, a summertime three-piece suit, socks, shoes, and his pocket watch. A second later, she found a pair of keys and pulled them out. "Which one?"

He took one and held it. She assumed that the other was his key to the antiques shop and slipped it back in the bag.

"Well, here goes." He took a deep breath and slipped underwater.

Jo dropped down to her bag and removed her phone. As she kept one eye on Henry, she set the timer on her phone and slipped it back in her bag.

She rose and watched him adjust his body to match the posture of Rodney's body. As Henry floated to the surface, Jo wondered if she was seeing what some of his first death had looked like.

A few seconds later, Henry surfaced and lowered his legs. As he straightened himself, she noticed that he still had the key in his hand. He swam to the edge using his free hand. Once at the pool's side, he placed the key on the deck and held on the edge.

Jo wrinkled her eyebrows. It looked as though Henry was having a flashback. He pulled one hand off the edge and rubbed his face almost like he was trying to wipe the image out of his mind.

"Do I need to call Abe?"

Henry blinked several times and slowly looked up at her. "I'll be fine." To prove his point, he hoisted himself over the edge and stood on the poolside. "Someone had taken the object from Rodney's hand before he was killed and thrown into the river."

She rose to meet him. "How do you know that?" She already knew how Henry had realized that Rodney was murdered.

He bent over and picked up the key. "A rare condition called cadaveric spasm. It is typically brought on by injury, sudden immersion in cold water, or intense emotion, and it disappears when regular rigor mortis sets in. Victims are usually found with objects, such as pieces of cloth or vegetation from a body of water, in their hands."

"Like what Hunter thought he had seen when he had discovered Rodney's body."

"Rodney's hands were relaxed, suggesting that he had dropped the object either at the moment of death or 36 hours after rigor mortis ended."

"Since we can't find what he was carrying and it's been less than 36 hours since Rodney's died…"

"Exactly."

Jo nodded. "Thanks." She wished that she knew what else to say.

Henry turned his attention back to his bag. He blinked several times and shook his head as he opened the bag and slipped the key into it.

She hated to leave him if he was feeling ill. Only she, Abe, and Adam knew of Henry's condition, and anyone else's efforts to help him might end in disaster for him and Abe. Yet, Henry was certain that he was well enough for her to leave him alone.

Knowing that he was stubborn, she decided to go for her swim. She walked around the pool to the stairs, placed her hand on the rail, and stepped into the water. The second that her other foot was submerged, she froze. She could hear both her assailant's comments and the voice of Aaron Brown's wife telling her about "a second chance" and how someone would "believed when no one else would. Hard to find that in this world".

At that moment, her long-buried memories flooded her mind. _Both parents working to keep food on the table. Her father teaching her some of the tools of his trade without her knowing the truth. Everything that she had seen on her way to the bodega or to school. The bullying that she had received during her only semester at the private school that she attended on scholarship. Her unsuccessful attempt to hide her love of history, geography, and literature so she could fit in with the popular girls. Learning of her father's criminal activities from a next-door neighbor who had heard about them. Confronting her father about the crimes that he had committed. Changing her major from history to pre-law when she had witnessed her childhood friend's murder and the police's indifference to the case. Her father practically disowning her the day that she received her uniform and badge. The ridicule, harassment, and verbal abuse that she endured from her neighbors when she became an officer. Shutting down her emotions after three months on the force because she had felt overwhelmed by the continuing surge of crime and suffering that she had seen daily. Sean's death and feeling like the only person to accept her fully had been taken away from her forever._

As her memories flashed before her, she had the feeling that, if remixed and slightly revised, her story also belonged to someone else—like Henry.

Jo's mind then went blank, and she felt like she couldn't focus on anything. All that she knew was that she remained motionless.

* * *

"Jo, are you alright?"

Jo blinked several times to clear the fog of her mind. She slowly turned her head toward the voice. Henry had joined her in the pool and was now giving her a concerned look.

"I'll be fine." She finished her descent down the stairs and glided into the water. A few seconds later, she automatically began swimming like she had never stopped. She took several strokes toward the deep end. Her mind was still unfocused, but she felt that each stroke helped to clear the fog even more.

When she reached the halfway point, she felt additional waves lapping against her body. She slowed down and saw Henry swimming beside her. With each stroke, he kept an eye on her, almost as if he was scared that something would happen to her if he didn't.

She stopped and sculled the water. When was the last time that he acted like this?

Suddenly, she saw flashes of memories again. _Offering his condolences for her loss of Sean when they had first met. Saving her life when Hans Koehler threw aconite on her hand. Getting her away from Koehler's garage when his story started to affect her. Visiting her in the hospital the day after Koehler shot her. Listening to her after she fatally shot Mark Bentley. Listening to her memory of being bullied. Offering to be shot instead of her when they confronted Morris in Manorville. Persistently investigating the murder of Sean's informant Aaron Brown. Her vague memory of refusing Henry's request to stop drinking and her clear memory of waking up on his sofa—with Abe looking at her like a kid on Christmas morning and Henry right behind him to keep his son from bothering her. Henry's plan to stop Detective Hugh Dunn from killing her. Henry running to her to see if she was alive and okay after she had crashed the car into the emergency barrier. Showing up at her house with hot chocolate. Suddenly running toward an unseen threat when they found Xavier. The tearful look on his face after he had told her that Adam had threatened to kill her if she intercepted the pugio._

" _You're my friend, my partner, and someone I deeply care about."_

Tears threatened to form in her eyes. _How could I had forgotten all that over the past three months?_ She looked down at the pool's bottom and bit her lower lip. She wished that she had never treated him the way that she had. She needed some way to begin to make it up to him.

She began to feel the fog come back. She leaned over and took a couple of more strokes to stop it. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him matching her strokes.

"When did you learn to swim?"

She stopped again and stared at him. _Out of all the questions…_

"My first semester of college." He stopped and sculled the water. "My neighborhood didn't have a pool, so I had never learned to swim. My first week of college, I walked around campus to see what else was there. I entered the indoor swimming pool. It was the most fascinating thing that I had ever seen." She smiled at the memory. "I stepped foot into the pool, and I quickly realized that I needed to learn how to swim. From that day until the day I stopped, I was in the pool every chance I got."

"You stopped because of Sean."

Her eyes widened at his deduction, but she nodded. "Because of our cases, it was difficult to find time for each other. So, I stopped my early morning swims, and he stopped his weekly pool games."

For a moment, his mind went back to his past. "When I was a child, I was always swimming in the pond on our estate. That is, if I wasn't in a tree or reading."

Jo cocked her head and looked curiously at him. Henry had never mentioned his childhood before. The most that she had known about that period of his life was that he was born on September 19, 1779, in London, that his family owned a well-known shipping company, and that they were wealthy enough to live what could be called an upper-middle class lifestyle. And she had learned that when he had told her about his immortality.

Something, however, had changed within the last few minutes. In addition to voluntarily giving her more details about his life, his voice was much more lighthearted than usual. Jo concluded that Henry must had been affected by whatever had happened to him while he was in the pool earlier.

The fog in her mind threatened to return. She felt that listening to Henry would be her way out of it. She smiled as she anticipated his continuation.

He quickly yielded to her unspoken suggestion. "I stopped when I had discovered that I was becoming quite attracted to the members of the opposite sex."

A laugh almost escaped from her. "Wait a minute! You're telling me that you gave up swimming for girls?!"

He smiled. "With the courtship rituals of dances and visits to a young lady's home, it became rather difficult to continue one of my favorite recreations. I maintained my ability to swim in case Father had convinced me to join him on one of his business trips, but I had stopped swimming recreationally at that time."

"What about with Abigail and Abe?"

"Both of them had a natural affinity for the water. When our schedules had permitted us, we went every chance that we had."

She was sure that he and Abe didn't swim recreationally now. "When did you stop?"

"1958, after we had spent six months in Hawaii."

Jo nodded. That move was necessitated because a PFC Hemecker had recognized Henry when he was walking through the park in New York in the fall of 1957.

To keep herself from being overwhelmed by the fog in her mind again, she remembered how his story began. "You mentioned tree climbing. How…?" At that moment, Jo sensed that she was much calmer now than she had been during the past three months. Much calmer than she had been over the last couple of years, for that matter.

He chuckled. "I was quite an adventurous child…."

Her arms were growing tired. She leaned back so that she could float. She didn't know what either of them were feeling right now, but she liked it. As the back of her head touched the water, she smiled and began to listen to his story.

* * *

"I had _never_ told Abe that story. I didn't want to encourage him."

Jo straightened up so that she wouldn't sink as a result of her laughter. She looked at Henry. He had a huge grin on his face as he relished telling her another one of his childhood misadventures. This time, he had told her about the time that he had startled his mother and his nursemaid when he had climbed out onto a limb and had dropped straight into the pond below. Jo could see why Henry had refused to mention that one to his rambunctious son.

Since Henry's question, they had gone wherever their rivers of memories had taken them. Henry told her about summers visiting his maternal grandparents' estate in Oxfordshire, schoolboy pranks both at his expense and of his own creation, and abolitionist meetings, and his detailed descriptions made her feel like she was there with him. In turn, Jo told him about trips to the bodega, pick-up games of baseball and basketball, and slumber parties with her childhood friend. When the rivers turned, Henry and Jo talked about the likes of George Gershwin's childhood accidents that required medical attention and Mr. Mendoza's empanadas. At one point, they both were amazed to learn that he had dug her maternal grandmother's grave. Each of their memories had led to a new pleasant surprise.

Jo's heart now began to race, and she briefly averted her eyes. She was enjoying this, and she was delighted to have this moment in complete solitude. No one had dared to come into the area during their conversation. Furthermore, there were no security cameras to record this for posterity. It was as though they were meant to have this time together. The only thing that threatened to ruin it was a constant, faint ring.

Henry suddenly grew somber. "That sounds like your cell phone."

The ring instantly grew louder. "Nuts!" She was going to kill Mike—or Lucas—for interrupting them.

She started to swim to the shallow end of the pool when she noticed that Henry had already sprung out of the pool and was now kneeling next to their bags. Seeing that he had a plan, she swam to him.

"What?"

"Hold onto the edge. When I lift you, pull yourself up."

She did as he said. _Henry never does anything normally._ Then again, nothing in his life was normal.

He leaned over, and she felt him wrapping his arms around her. The second that he lifted her, his surprising strength almost pleasantly distracted her from her scramble up the wall. A couple of seconds later, she found herself standing next to him and looking deep into his brown eyes as he unwrapped his arms.

The annoying tone continued. She lunged for her duffle bag and pulled out her towel and her phone. She tapped the screen and checked it. No one had called her. Instead, her timer icon was blinking.

"Man! I don't believe it!"

"Believe what?"

Jo looked at Henry and flashed her phone. "I set my timer so that I could get breakfast before work." He gave her a confused look. "It's been going off for the last ten minutes."

He silently nodded and stepped back to his bag. With slumped shoulders and a frown, he reached into his bag.

As he pulled out his towel, his scar caught Jo's eye. She now knew why he rarely talked about himself. Why Nora and Bedlam had a profound effect on him 200 years later. Why Abigail's decision to leave him had deeply hurt him and why several cases and finding her letter were healing that pain. Why he had no self-preservation when he's a dangerous situation with others. Why he didn't want to see any more of his family and friends age and die. Why Abe's future death would cut Henry to the core. Why he was terrified of the thought of turning into Adam. Why his detailed descriptions seemed to be a recent development—if she could call 100 years recent. Why those who overlooked his quirks—like the Catholic priest who was his cellmate in Southwark Prison, Gloria Carlisle, Red Holland, Molly Dawes, the Urkesh royal family, and Valerie—meant so much to him. Why his high-fiving Lucas when they were kicked out of the nightclub had made her wonder "Who are you, and what did you do with Henry Morgan?" Why he had unconsciously dropped hints about his immortality and was willing to expose his secret to her since they had first met.

Whether Henry realized it or not, it wasn't death that he longed for. It was connection.

She watched him instinctively dry himself as she dried herself. She knew the feeling. Ever since Sean's death, Mike had been her only friend, and that was because of work. She had cut herself off from everyone, thinking that others wouldn't understand the deep pain that she had. For the most part, she was right. Henry, however, had been the first one to not only see her grief but also to know exactly what it was felt like. Maybe their ability to connect with each other was the real reason why their partnership started and why it had evolved into a friendship since then.

Honestly, she was missing that friendship over the past three months.

"You know." Henry looked over at her, draping his towel over his shoulders in the process. "We can continue this in the car."

The second that the words left her mouth, she hated the suggestion. The minutes that they had spent talking in the car and some free time at the end of cases weren't enough. She wished that they had more time together, like their dinner on his rooftop after their first month and a half of working together and the meal that they shared three months ago.

He smiled. "Would you like to get some coffee and breakfast?" To sweeten the deal, his stomach audibly growled.

She stifled her giggles because of the sound. "I would like that."

He picked up his bag and slung it over his right shoulder. For a moment, she could almost see him in his Army medic's uniform as he moved through World War II-era Europe. Or as Abigail placed Abe in his arms for the first time. Or when he had unsuccessfully tried to leave Abigail and Abe after Abigail's discovery of his immortality.

He rose his arm, sniffed himself, and lowered it. "I'll need a shower first. If I don't, Lucas would be questioning me about my whereabouts this morning."

 _Good idea._ Mike would be doing the same thing to her. "I think that I had seen the showers when I came in." She picked up her duffle bag and slung it over her shoulder.

As she led him to the showers, the fog began to creep back into her mind. To keep it at bay, she let her mind wander back to the pool. Whatever had happened to them seemed to have drawn them closer together. She hoped that, when the fog finally cleared, their experience would be the start of something that would last.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** For Jo's backstory, I used her question, "Is it me, or has college changed?" in "Memories of Murder" as the basis for her college education.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note** : I hadn't mentioned this, but this is a multi-chapter story.

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

There _must_ be a perfectly logical explanation for today's events. His and Jo's assailant had appeared to be a normal man who had no prior knowledge of either of them. If anything, he had likely deduced Henry's title of a gentleman and Jo's occupation as a law enforcement officer from their postures, their speech patterns, and the contents of their conversation while he was leaving the pool. The man's comments could be a part of a new ex-pat's difficulties in adjusting to life in America while his rude behavior was an artifact from whatever had happened earlier in the day or week. Henry's own reaction to the man grasping his right wrist was likely from the surprise of the unexpected action. None of that was out of the realm of ordinary behavior.

So, why did he feel as though he had been placed under a spell?

The fog that Henry had felt before Jo had asked him whether they needed to call Abe began to roll into his mind again. He longed for a way to stop it before it enshrouded his mind entirely.

"Pops?"

Everything in the dining area suddenly came back into focus. Henry glanced up and looked up at Abe. His son had a concerned look on his face.

"You've been quiet tonight. Did something happen this morning?"

Nothing about the morning had made sense. Henry decided to tell him the one thing that was the least perplexing. "Jo helped me with my experiment after you had left the swimming area. It had confirmed my suspicions that Rodney was murdered and thrown into the river and that someone had taken whatever he had in his hand at the time." He pushed his pierogis around before finally stabbing one with his fork. "After that, I decided to spend some time with Jo as she went for her swim." Henry lifted his pierogi to his mouth and hoped that Abe would not ask what happened.

"Well…" Abe smiled as he took another bite of his pierogi.

Henry could tell that he wasn't getting out of this conversation too easily. He sighed as he placed his fork onto his plate. "We swam and talked."

"About…"

Henry knew that Abe wanted to know whether he and Jo had made any progress in their adjustment to her knowledge of the truth about him. "A little of everything. Then, we went out to breakfast. Because of my half of our conversation, I almost caused us to be ten minutes late for work." Actually, they had arrived at work on time, but they had eaten a quicker breakfast than either of them had liked to compensate for the extra time that they had spent talking in the pool.

Abe's smiled widened. "That's great!"

Henry resisted the urge to groan. "Abe, that isn't like me!"

Abe looked him in the eye and leaned forward. "You found a way to relax and enjoy yourself. That's progress."

The truth of that statement stung Henry. It had been a while since he had been able to completely relax around someone other than his family and to be himself—seventy years, to be exact. That was with Abigail the week before they had formally adopted Abe. That particular Saturday morning, they both had learned that they had the day off. They had planned to spend the day caring for Abe, but several of Abigail's fellow nurses volunteered to babysit him so that they could have some time for themselves. They then decided to explore the town near their field hospital. During their walk to town, Abigail had mentioned that she was from Oxfordshire. At that moment, Henry's tongue loosened, and he suddenly found himself telling her about himself and his life. Before they knew it, they had spent most of the day together, and Henry had wondered if he might had found someone who would accept him.

Abe's eyes darted down and then back up. A curious look filled them. "Why are you rubbing your right wrist?"

Henry knitted his eyebrows together and looked down. Sure enough, his right forearm was in the air, and he was rubbing his wrist with his other hand. The action startled him. It was something that he had done in Bedlam, Charing Cross, and Southwark Prison to obtain some temporary relief from the manacles that were used to restrain him. It was also the first thing that he had done as he had sat on the shore of the River Thames shortly after his escape from Southwark.

He dropped his hands and forced himself to get a bite of his meal. "Honestly, I don't know."

"What happened?" Abe's firm voice indicated that he knew that his father wasn't telling the whole story.

Henry sighed. He might as well start at the beginning. Perhaps, in the telling of the story, he could determine what had happened to both him and Jo.

"While you had taken Jerry's call, Jo and I had discussed the case. A couple of moments later, a fellow ex-pat bumped into Jo and pushed her toward me."

"Was she okay?"

"Yes. I, however, went after him and attempted to convince him to apologize. Instead, he grabbed my right wrist and told me…" The words still seemed strange, almost as if the impertinent man knew who he was—or as if it were the words to a spell.

"What?"

"He told me that I had seemed to have forgotten who I was and that maybe I should return home and remind myself of my heritage. After that, he released me and walked off."

Abe froze. "Does he…?"

Henry shook his head. "Jo asked the same question. As far as I know, he doesn't. Then again, given his temperament and his powers of deduction, I wouldn't be surprised if he is very distantly related to Adam. You came in after that." Henry looked down at his plate and pushed his pierogis around some more to keep the incoming fog at bay.

"What happened afterward?" Henry looked back up at the younger Morgan. "That's what I would like to know."

Henry looked past Abe so that he could clearly remember the events. "I took the key from Jo and went underwater. After I positioned my body, I suddenly saw my life flash before my eyes."

Henry forced himself to look at Abe. Abe's eyebrows knitted together, and he looked concerned. "Like when you die?"

"Usually, when I die, I remember everything from my first memory to the circumstances of my latest death. This time, it was just the first 35 years of my life, including my first awakening." Abe appeared to slightly relax.

Henry's eyes drifted back to the table. "The curious thing is that, superimposed over my memories, I heard the voice of my cellmate in Southwark telling me to have faith and to start over. I know that he was talking about my escape from prison, but…." He wondered why he had heard those particular words today.

"When was the last time that you thought of him?"

His eyes darted back and forth, and Henry raised his head. "It was when we were investigating Aaron Brown's murder." _Shortly after I had killed Clark Walker and had spent a month in self-imposed isolation because of my guilt about his death_. Why was his mind making the connection between that period and what was happening now?

He knew that the story wasn't finished. "Anyway, at the time, I thought that, if slightly rewritten and significantly shortened, a part of my life's story belonged to Jo as well. After I surfaced, I suddenly couldn't focus on anything. I don't even know how I reached the side of the pool; perhaps instinct had taken over. The next thing that I know for certain, I heard Jo ask me if she needed to call you. I climbed out of the pool and told her my results. As I placed the key back into my bag, I asked myself about the last time that Jo had been concerned about me. I then remembered everything from the moment we had met until I had revealed my condition to her."

For the first time since the incident, Henry felt his left hand move toward his other wrist. He willed himself to stop the action, and, remarkably, his body obeyed him. He thought back to his and Jo's swim. "I looked over and saw Jo. She was frozen in place, and her face had a blank expression on it. As I was worried about her, I walked over to the pool and joined her then."

"That's when…"

"Yes." Henry took another bite of his meal.

He studied the younger Morgan's reaction. In a way, he halfway expected that his son would not believe him.

Abe spent a few minutes in thought. He then broke his silence. "Do you want to know what I think? Aside from the fact that we need to watch you more closely the next time that Adam proposes one of his cockamamie theories of how you can become a corpse?"

Henry felt slightly insulted by Abe's implication that he was somewhat suggestible. Moreover, it seemed as though his desire to die had lessened considerably over the past year. "What?"

"You and Jo are so much alike, and you both subconsciously want this to work out. Somehow, today, both of your minds found a way to get around whatever is blocking you."

Henry picked up another pierogi and bit it. He wished that his son was right.

"Pops, she's not going anywhere."

Henry looked into Abe's eyes. "How can you be so certain?"

"She would have done something before now."

Henry sighed. Abe's insight sounded plausible. Nora had him committed the same day that he had told her what had happened aboard _The Empress of Africa_. Abigail had left the same day that she had written the letter stating that the pain of being his wife was too much for her. Jo, however, hadn't acted on her thoughts and emotions yet. "I suppose you are right."

He began to lose focus again. In a minute, the fog would return. To fight it, he remembered Abe's phone call. "What type of box did Jerry want you to look at?"

"It's in the living room. I'll show you after dinner."

Henry resisted the urge to groan. Abe, in his enthusiasm about life, could be so impetuous at times.

Still, Henry could make an exception in this case. It seemed as though an active mind helped him stay focused.

He looked down at his plate. He wasn't hungry, but he knew that he needed some sustenance. He speared another pierogi and began to finish his meal.

* * *

Henry walked into the living room just as Abe put the last of the dinner dishes onto the rack to dry. He surveyed the room for the object in question. His eyes landed on the photograph of him, Abigail, and Abe in front of the apartment complex that they had lived in when they had first arrived in New York. He walked over to the mantle and gazed at it. It had been seventy years since the photograph was taken, thirty years since it had disappeared with Abigail, and three months since it had been returned.

Henry sighed. He remembered the day that Jo had appeared at his door with it. How was he to know that this would happen?

A hand clasped his shoulder and squeezed it. Henry momentarily closed his eyes as he jerked from the unexpected action. He turned and saw Abe standing behind him.

"Everything's still raw, isn't it?"

Abe's question cut straight to the issue. How did his son become so perceptive in his short time on Earth?

Henry nodded as Abe released him. "Indeed, it is."

He inhaled and studied the coffee table. A black box with a light, painted top sat on it. He stepped over to the table and picked up the object. "Is this it?"

"Yeah."

Henry studied the box. The black lacquer and the painted enamel looked untouched in spite of the century that had passed since its creation. The painted image of a family riding through a forest in a horse-drawn sleigh stirred memories buried deep in his past.

He looked curiously at Abe. "You usually know your antiques. Why did you bring this home?"

Abe placed one hand on his hip and gestured toward the object with the other. "For authentication purposes. I'm sure it's the real deal, but since you're the expert on all things Russian, Ukrainian, and Urkesh…"

Henry smiled as he flipped the box right-side up. Although the newest Urkesh prince's cries for food and a diaper change had exhausted him and Jo, Henry had to admit that he had enjoyed their time together.

He opened the box. Like the outside, the interior was in immaculate condition. "Well, this is an authentic _troika_ —"

A glint caught his eye. He looked at it and noticed a speck of gold in a corner. One memory suddenly surfaced. He moved the top under the box and used his free hand to measure the interior.

The object that he was remembering would fit perfectly in the hollow, and—

"Abe, where did Jerry get this box?"

"I—. " He looked at Henry and sighed. "Some guy named Marcus Baxter had left it at his shop when he was asking Jerry about installing some new locks in his antiques store." Abe's eyes grew wider, and he threw his hands up. "I swear that's all that happened! You scared Jerry when you chewed us and Myron out for taking Clausten Capital's financial records from Clausten's boat."

Henry studied his son as he replaced the lid onto the box. He was inclined to believe him.

He immediately knew the name "Marcus Baxter". One of Rodney's clients had mentioned him during his interview with Jo and Henry earlier today. According to the client, Marcus was a new antique dealer who was interested in selling early American and European artwork. Unfortunately, the client had known nothing else about the man nor his connection to Rodney.

Henry handed the box to Abe. "First thing in the morning, I want you to take this to Jo and explain how you and Jerry had obtained it."

"But—." Abe's whine indicated that he had planned to sell the box in the shop.

Henry looked his son in the eye as Abe reluctantly took the object. "You possibly have blown Jo and my case wide open, and you may have rewritten art history in the process."

Abe looked the box over and grew more thoughtful. "If that's the case, I'll take that as a consolation prize."

Henry glanced at the sofa. An image of Jo sitting on it with Abe seated next to her flashed before him. He suddenly began to lose focus again.

"Pops, are you okay?"

Henry blinked. Abe's question acted as his way out of the fog for the time being. "I will be."

He needed a plan—fast. "I think that I'll go into my lab and see if I can develop a meta-analysis of the impertinent gentleman from this morning."

"Alright. Let me know if you need anything. I might run some blueberry scones downstairs later, though."

Henry could feel his mind losing focus again. He hurried past Abe and stepped into the kitchen. Hopefully, his meta-analysis would provide him with some insight into the man…and would bring some order to the disparate pieces of information that this bewildering day had brought.

* * *

The words on his legal pad blurred together. Henry blinked to get his mind back onto the task at hand.

It had been an hour since he began his meta-analysis, but to no avail. The man yielded very few clues as to who he was. Even the man's words to him seemed ordinary. Henry sighed. He would have to give up that line of reasoning for the time being.

He set his pen on the pad and looked up at the room. His thoughts drifted to his and Abe's dinner conversation. He had decided against telling Abe his thoughts this morning. The morning's events had rendered it pointless to bring it up to his son at that point in time.

The silence of the basement, however, allowed the memory of his thoughts while he had packed his duffle bag and slipped on his swim trunks earlier today to come back instantly. When he had told Jo about his condition, she had believed him immediately, and she accepted it in almost the same way that Abigail had. In Jo's case, she began to match his stories to his reactions and to his "unusual" comments during their cases, and it took him three days just to tell her everything that he had remembered during their first nine months of working together. As the days passed, Jo showed an amazing sense of compassion and understanding and an eager interest in learning everything about him. Henry began to feel that, for the first time since Abigail had left him, someone could fully accept him for who—and what—he was.

About a week and a half after his revelation, that changed. He didn't know what Lt. Reece or her superiors had discussed with Jo or what Hanson had said to her while they were together, but Jo was profoundly affected by the comments. She became more irritable and less interested in what he had to say about his past. In some ways, her change in attitude reminded him of the years in which an aging Abigail had struggled with society's denial of her and her ageless husband's matrimonial bond.

Still, the circumstances with Jo were much different than they were with Abigail. As Jo had made it painfully clear on several occasions prior to his revelation, she would have to end her investigation should he commit a misstep during a case. With the increase in the stakes for the both of them, he made a concerted effort to protect every aspect of his secret by suppressing his tendencies while he was in the field.

His efforts failed during their most recent investigation. Their suspect saw him standing beside the car and grabbed him. Henry felt a gun to his back and heard the man tell him to come or his partner would die. Unwilling to have Jo or Hanson on his autopsy table, Henry accompanied him. Fortunately, the two detectives found him before the suspect found them, and they talked the man out of killing Henry. After that, Jo had become more withdrawn and had rarely spoken with him.

Henry sighed as he rose from his desk chair and began to pace. He had never intended for her to take on the burden of protecting him. She had already suffered enough with her father's criminal background, her childhood bullying incident, her life in her childhood neighborhood, and Sean's death. He could not put her through even more unnecessary pain and suffering, this time coming from him. Yet, he was still waiting for her to make a decision about their partnership. Last night, he had reluctantly decided to tell her that it would be best if they ended their partnership until she felt comfortable enough to work with him again.

When he saw her at the pool this morning, he started to tell her. She, however, stopped him. Recognizing her uncertainty under her curt tone, he had decided not to pursue the issue further. Instead, he had found himself wondering what he should discuss with her.

The fog suddenly came in. Henry blinked several times to clear it. He then recognized that there seemed to be a pattern to the times in which his mind went blank and became unfocused. Why did it always seem to come when he thought about his relationship with Jo over the past three months and this morning's events?

He believed that he could rule out magic spells. Like fate and, with the exception of his own, curses, they did not exist.

Abe's comment about his and Jo's minds working out the issues between them came to mind. Maybe Abe had a point. Perhaps his mind wouldn't leave him alone until he had settled the issue.

Henry stopped his pacing. He studied the spot where he stood. He inhaled as he realized that it was the exact spot where he had stood when Jo had come to the shop to seize his hunting knife and to question him about its use in the murder of the previous owner of an antique gun that Adam had acquired just before he had revealed himself to Henry.

Both then and now, she had believed him. _Had there been other times in which Jo had believed me?_

At that moment, he saw flashes of memory. _Seeing the surveillance footage of him boarding the train but never leaving it. Her reaction to his damp hair when he and Abe returned home only to find her searching the shop. "I haven't experimented with aconite in a while". The story of his pocket watch. Seeing him fall off the roof with Hans Koehler. His knowledge of Veronica Browning's neighborhood and her family. Chasing Abe through the subway system. Asking him whether he knew Gloria Carlisle. His comment about time not being on her side. His knowledge about the tunnels connecting Alphabet City's apartment complexes. His Jack the Ripper notes, his knowledge about the New York libraries during the Great Depression, and his knowledge about elevators in the 1890s. "You live long enough…" Exchanging his life for hers when Morris had threatened them. Seeing his scar for the first time. "I was shot." "Try centuries." Henry breaching the topic of immortality to her, Hanson, and Lt. Reece. Not asking him why he stepped in front of a car twice while they were investigating Jason Fawkes' murder. Driving Detective Hugh Dunn's car into the emergency barrier. "Or one very long one." The entire investigation into Armen Aronov's murder. His extensive knowledge about life in New York in the late 1970s when they investigated the death of one of Molly Dawes' students. Listening to his list of ways to die and asking him why he studied death. Learning that he had attended Oxford. The raising of The Empress of Africa. Understanding his obsession with solving the murder of Eddie Warsaw's girlfriend. Being with him and Abe as they investigated Abigail's disappearance and death. Asking him who Abe's mother was to him. Her hurt when she had learned about Abigail's funeral. "I believe in the curse of the pugio." Trying to arrive at his side before Adam killed him with the flintlock pistol associated with his first death. The look in her eyes when she presented the photograph of him, Abigail, and Abe to him._

Stunned, Henry stood there for a minute. When he had revealed his condition to her, Jo had mentioned that he had constantly dropped hints about his immortality during their cases. This was the first time that he had noticed how much he had mentioned about himself since their first one.

To a stranger, his unconscious comments and reactions could be explained in one of two ways. On the one hand, he could be a sociopathic criminal whose past was catching up with him, causing him to construct more elaborate lies to hide the truth. On the other hand, his wife's departure and death could had triggered a psychotic episode so severe that medical treatment would be required.

As a law enforcement officer who was his unofficial partner, Jo had learned more about his condition with each passing day. She had the responsibility to have him committed when she had seen him endangering his life or to arrest him for the times he had appeared to obstruct justice. Yet, she had done neither. Instead, she had suspected that there was more to the story, and she had risked her career by choosing to act as though his actions and comments were a part of who he was.

He blinked back the tears that were forming. Abe was right; Jo wasn't going anywhere. If anything, she _wanted_ to help him carry the burden of his immortality.

He walked over to the sofa and sat down. It had been a very long while since he had a friend who knew everything about him. Even before he had told her his secret, it obviously had been easy to share moments from his life with Jo. Something about her, perhaps their ability to connect with each other over their shared sorrows and difficulties, had caused him to trust her enough to let her see past his carefully constructed defenses and to allow her to catch a glimpse of the real Henry Morgan. As a result, she had become one of the few friends that he had ever had.

Honestly, he had been missing his friendship with her during the past three months.

He wanted to tell her more about his and Jo's assailant. He, however, couldn't work on his meta-analysis anymore. He wanted to remain in the lab in case the inspiration for a line of reasoning about the man had struck him. To pass the time, Henry felt that he still needed something to do in case the fog tried to return. He looked over at the end table and saw the book that he had been reading while waiting for Abe to return home from a date.

He smiled as he picked up the tome and settled himself onto the sofa. Today, he had dropped his defenses again, and, this time, he had allowed Jo into his life forever.

He knitted his eyebrows together. This was the calmest and the most relaxed that he had felt in thirty years. Pleasantly surprised, he opened his book and began to read.

Soon, the words on the page blurred together, and his eyes grew heavy. His hands began to slacken, allowing his book to fall onto his chest. As sleep claimed him for the night, the only thought on his mind was his eagerness to see Jo—his friend and partner—when he arrived at work tomorrow.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** In the story of how Henry began to talk about himself with Abigail, I couldn't fully describe what had happened without it being a full flashback. Essentially, Henry had shared the details of his life with Abigail the same way that we see him tell Jo about himself.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note** : I haven't forgotten about this story. I was on a roll in writing three chapters for "Remember You Must Die and Live", and it took me a while to get re-inspired to write this chapter. I hope that you will enjoy it.

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

The elevator doors opened, and Jo strolled the familiar path to Henry's office. She had felt so calm and relaxed that she didn't want her coffee this morning. She didn't fully know what had caused her good mood, but her swim with Henry yesterday had something to do with it.

Suddenly, she noticed that something wasn't right in the morgue. Rodney's body laid on the autopsy table, but Henry and Lucas were nowhere to be seen. Furthermore, they weren't in Henry's office.

Jo's heart started to race as she glanced at the sight between the tables. Henry was lying on the ground while Lucas squatted next to him.

"Boss?" Lucas shook him. "Doc?" His voice began cracking. "Henry?"

Lucas seemed to sense Jo's presence. He turned to her and rose. "Did I kill him?!"

He started pacing. "Nuts! I can't believe it! What am I going to tell Abe?! Oh, man! Abe's going to _kill_ me!"

Jo walked over to Henry. She hoped that the entire OCME wouldn't learn that Henry would never lay on an autopsy table.

She squatted down beside him and took his wrist in her hand. His strong pulse and steady breathing reassured her that he wasn't going for an unexpected swim today. She looked him over. Her limited knowledge of first aid told her that the worst that he would feel would be a headache from when his head had hit the floor.

She resisted the urge to breathe a sigh of relief as she looked at a panicking Lucas. "Lucas?"

He stopped in his tracks and faced her.

"You just knocked him out."

"Really?" Lucas' eyes widened.

She nodded.

Lucas leaned back and exhaled before muttering thanks.

"Lucas!"

"Yeah?" He was calmer now.

"Move the chairs in Henry's office. We'll put him in there until he wakes up."

Lucas nodded and headed for Henry's office.

As she waited for his return, she looked at her friend. In his unconscious state, the toll that the centuries had taken on him had seemed to instantly vanish. Her heart ached as she thought that this was one of the only times in which he could get any real rest from the troubles in his life.

A golden glint caught her eye. Her eyes followed it to Henry's pocket watch on the floor. She reached over, picked it up, and slipped it into her pocket.

"Okay." Jo turned at the sound of Lucas' voice. "Which end do you want, his head or his feet?"

"I'll take his feet." That seemed to be the most appropriate. She rose and took them.

"Will do." Lucas reached under Henry's arms and picked him up.

Jo's jaw dropped open. Lucas was wrangling Henry's unconscious body like a corpse. She was glad that Henry wouldn't know about this when he woke up.

They made their way to his office and laid him down. Realizing that the room was cramped, she stepped outside and sat down on the ground close to the door. She positioned herself so she could watch his face. Lucas followed her lead and sat down across from her.

She stole a glance at Henry before turning her attention to his assistant. She inhaled. "I'm scared to ask, but what happened?"

Lucas closed his eyes for a moment. "We haven't been able to find anything that indicated how Rodney died. We were brainstorming ideas until I came up with the idea that someone had used a Vulcan nerve pinch on him."

 _Huh?_ "You do realize that's science fiction?"

"Henry said essentially the same thing, only he used the words 'fanciful flight of fantasy'." Lucas abruptly looked more authoritative. "The non-Vulcan version is based in reality."

Jo could see where this was going. As it was Lucas' first time playing the murderer, he needed to talk it out.

"First, I grabbed him here"—he pointed to a spot on his forearm—"with one hand. Then, while I held it, I grabbed him here"—he pointed to a spot near his shoulder. "Then, I applied pressure here"—he pointed to the base of his neck. His voice cracked with the memory. "That was when…"

Jo looked over at Henry before nodding.

"Is he going to be okay?"

As if to reassure the two of them, Henry moaned. Jo looked over at him as he opened his eyes. He blinked a couple of times and began to sit up.

Jo smiled as she reached over to guide him. "You know that you're supposed to take it easy."

He finished sitting and placed his hand behind his head. He closed his eyes to dull any pain. "Our killer may not be well-versed in the storytelling of _Star Trek_ , but he certainly has knowledge of the various holds commonly found in judo." His knowledgeable voice told of previous attacks in the same manner.

He opened his eyes, and they met hers. "Jo?" Elation, confusion, and a hint of embarrassment filled his face.

"I came down here to tell you that Abe had dropped off a lacquer box that had been left at Jerry's and that Mike and I are following their leads."

At that moment, Jo could see the fatherly pride in Henry's eyes. Knowing the two men, this had been a momentary point of contention between them, with the father persuading the son to do the right thing.

"Henry?" Jo heard Lucas behind her. Henry looked at his assistant.

"I did _not_ mean for this to happen. I'm sorry."

Henry lowered his hand and chuckled. "Outside of our re-enactments, remind me to never attack you."

Jo wished that she could see the look on Lucas' face as he processed Henry's compliment. She could imagine that it was a mix of shock, awe, glee, and pride—all rolled into one.

Henry took a minute to recover everything in his mind. "We hadn't noticed anything as the lividity had covered the bruises on Rodney's body.

"That makes sense."

Jo suddenly heard footsteps in the room. She looked up and saw Mike walking toward them.

He surveyed the room and spotted Jo. One eyebrow shot up while the other lowered. He raised one hand. "I don't even want to know."

His eyes darted from her to Henry and back again. "We've tracked the lead that Abe and Jerry Charters have given us. Turns out, Marcus Baxter's shop is near the entrance of the Lincoln Tunnel. We've got the warrant to check the place out."

She could see Henry repositioning himself so he could stand. "Do you mind if I went with Jo?"

She cocked her head. He had _never_ stated a preference before. Unless he had been told that it was "badges only", he had always automatically followed her or Mike to the car. His smile, however, indicated that he wanted to be with her, even if it was for a short time.

Mike shrugged. "Yeah, sure."

"In case any of you have forgotten that I'm still standing here…" Everyone turned to Lucas. "Yeah. I'll go and place Rodney's body back in the cooler." With that, he walked off.

Jo rose from her seat, and she and Mike helped Henry up. He walked over to his chair and exchanged coats. She reached into her pocket, pulled out his watch, and handed it to him.

For a second, he looked puzzled. Then, he realized what had happened. He smiled as he took it from her and fastened it to his vest. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it." She returned his smile.

A couple of moments later, they left the office. Jo didn't know why, but she unexpectedly started to grow a little nervous. She stole another glance at Henry, who was talking about literary inspiration from medical evidence, and suddenly felt calmer. Whatever it was wasn't important. All that mattered was that they would have a few moments to be together.

* * *

They got into the car and fastened their seat belts. Jo stole a glance at Henry. So far, he wasn't showing any signs of a headache. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yes, I am. I don't seem to have any signs of a concussion or a head injury. I'll likely have a headache soon, if my past experiences with being knocked unconscious is any guide."

"I have some ibuprofen in the glove compartment if you need it." She glanced down at her cup holder to see if she had some coffee to offer him when she remembered that she hadn't had her first cup yet.

She pulled out of her spot and started toward the Lincoln Tunnel. Her lack of coffee reminded her of yesterday's events. Their swim was enjoyable, but she wished that she could make sense of what had happened a few minutes earlier.

She didn't know how to begin. She inhaled. "Yesterday was weird."

"I completely agree. I still don't know what to think about the events before our swim."

She looked over at him. With the exception of the first week and a half after his revelation, he would tense up when she had wanted to discuss something difficult with him. Today, he leaned back in his seat with a very calm look on his face.

Astonished by his sudden peace of mind, she turned her attention back to the busy streets. Whatever happened had made a huge emotional impact on him.

She drove in silence for a moment. The fog unexpectedly began to come back. Her heart started pounding because of her awareness of Henry's presence in the car. She needed to keep her focus on the road, or she would endanger the both of them.

Maybe talking about it would help her understand yesterday's events. "When I was a little girl, I wondered what it would be like to be under a magic spell." She briefly looked over at him, and she could imagine him reading fairy tales to a daughter decades or even a century before he had held Abe for the first time. "I imagined living a normal life until, one day, something happens, and I find myself completely unable to control my actions and thoughts. Of course, I always imagined that a handsome prince would find me and that his kiss would break the spell." Her cheeks felt warm because of her sudden openness about her desired ending for her childhood fantasies.

She tapped the steering wheel as she waited for a red light. Yesterday, she had had difficulty in controlling her thoughts. After their swim and breakfast, the fog kept returning when she had a quiet moment. Her work and conversations with Henry and Mike were the only things which held it at bay throughout the day. When she returned home, the fog was so thick that she had fallen asleep on the sofa while re-watching _Pride and Prejudice_. Only this morning, it lifted when she had remembered that she would see Henry at work and that they could talk during their drives.

"If being under a magic spell is anything like yesterday's events, then I'm glad that it was just a childhood fantasy."

"I will assure you that we both hadn't fallen under a spell."

She turned and curiously looked at him. "How can you be sure?" She felt stupid the second that she finished the question.

"The thought had crossed my mind on several occasions yesterday, so I conducted a meta-analysis on our ill-mannered assailant. He yielded no more details about himself than I do after an awakening. I'm very inclined to believe that he was a frustrated ex-pat from a well-to-do upbringing who had overheard our conversation near the pool and who didn't wish to be reminded of his loneliness."

She opened her mouth at his admission of considering magic spells as the cause of their behavior yesterday. "Wait a minute. With the exception of immortality, you don't believe in the supernatural." A car horn forced her attention onto traffic.

"Aside from an inability to concentrate unless I focused on work or conversation, I had a couple of unusual experiences that had prompted me to consider it."

"Such as?"

"How did I reach the side of the pool? I don't remember."

She wrinkled her eyebrows. "You swam back and placed the key back onto the ledge. Then, you wiped your face while looking like you were having a flashback."

His eyes met hers. "I was having a series of them. If I had performed that motion just before you had asked me if we needed Abe, I was remembering my first death and awakening. To answer your next question, the memories weren't like the ones that I see every time I die; the flashbacks this time covered only my first 35 years of life."

He had talked to Abe about this last night. "What else?"

"Had you noticed if I rubbed my right wrist at any time yesterday?"

"Yeah, several times. Why did you ask?"

He stared at her in disbelief before relaxing. "It's an old habit from my days in the asylums and prison. I would rub my wrists to obtain some relief from my manacles. Of the moment, I'm not sure why I have started it again."

She inhaled as she looked back at the car ahead of her. "I can't even begin to imagine your experiences there. From what I had read on Wikipedia the day after you had mentioned it, you were tortured because no one believed you then."

She turned to judge his reaction. Surprise, contemplation, and then acceptance crossed his face.

"I hadn't thought of my experiences in that manner before." He paused for a moment. "What happened three months ago?"

He was her friend, and she owed him the truth. She gripped the steering wheel tighter to steady her surging emotions. "A trip down memory lane and an old TV show." She glanced at him and noticed his confused look. "I saw one of Sean's colleagues at the precinct, and I wanted to say hello and to catch up with her. Yet, with all of the precautions that I had to take when Sean was alive, I knew that she wouldn't tell me much about her life recently. Later that night, I caught a few minutes of an old TV show where a scientist was experimenting on a man with unique abilities. That reminded me of what you had told me about your past, and…."

Tears stung her eyes as she stopped again. "This isn't about protecting someone from death threats and death." Her voice had somewhat risen with the unbidden words, but she didn't care. "This is about protecting someone from becoming a human guinea pig or from being tortured because he has something that the rest of us would love to have. I had sworn to protect the public, but this is the first time that I don't think that I can protect someone whose secret can get out at any minute."

She caught her breath. "The thing is that I want to protect you and your immortality." She stopped to wipe a tear. "I'm just scared that the wrong person will find out about you and that you'll be taken away forever."

Another tear trickled down her cheek. "Adam found out about you from one look— just _one_ quick look,—and we both know what he did to you. If one immortal who is looking to die can do that to another immortal, how much more would a secret government agency or a company like Aterna Pharmaceuticals do to you if they found out that immortality and agelessness exist? What's going to happen when Adam breaks free of the coma that you put him in? Will he keep experimenting on you until he finds a way to first kill you and then himself?"

The memories of the last two cases before Henry's revelation flooded back. Henry's behavior had been off—even for him—since they had discovered the remains of one of Abigail's patients at St. Timothy's until Adam's warning shot which had alerted Jo to both Henry's endangerment and Adam's presence in the abandoned subway tunnel. At the time, she had felt that the search for the _pugio_ was somehow connected to the death of Abe's mother—.

Tears again streamed down her face, almost blurring her vision of the green light. She began her drive again. "I'm sorry. I know that you had said that you didn't want to talk at the time. When we had discovered that Adam's _pugio_ was missing from the museum, I still should had followed you out of the museum and asked you how you were doing after Abigail's death. I didn't, and I almost lost my friend twice in the same week."

Her breath caught in her throat when she recognized the true reason for her attitude toward Henry lately. As much as he had taken full responsibility for the events leading up to his and Adam's confrontation, she felt that she still could had prevented it by letting Henry talk about Abigail's life and death. Instead, her focus on the case almost costed her their friendship and his life.

She placed her hand on the seat between them to steady herself. He probably thought that she was being overly emotional about it. She had never been shown this much emotion about anything—but Sean's death and the pain that she had felt when she had kicked Henry out of her car three months ago. She hated the thought of her words causing Henry more pain than what he had deserved.

Suddenly, she felt him place his hand over hers, and he wrapped his fingers around her palm. She briefly glanced down and felt all of her tension drain from her body. Then, she wrapped her fingers around his.

"I worry about the exposure of my condition every day."

She nodded as she stopped again for yet another red light. For over 200 years, he had dyed his hair, falsified documents, and changed his nationality to remain hidden in plain sight. Yet, he still felt as though he couldn't adequately protect himself.

He clearly felt safe around her. Even so, her knowledge of his immortality didn't guarantee his safety. "How can you know that I won't slip?" She heard her soft voice crack.

"I wouldn't had unconsciously slipped about my experiments with aconite during my interrogation if I hadn't trusted you."

She turned and stared at him. That comment had caused her to call him creepy and weird. It, however, marked the moment that he had dropped his guard around her for the first time and dropped her a hint about his condition.

"When did you first start to realize that you trusted me?"

A small smile crept onto his face. "It was during our hypothetical question a few moments later. You had found my watch among the wreckage, had overheard me calling the train engineer lucky during your first visit to the OCME, had seen the surveillance footage of me boarding the train but never leaving it, had asked me if I had gone for a late night swim when Abe and I had returned to the shop, was more concerned about my handcuffs than my passports, and had heard me mention the aconite. Yet, you were treating me as your prime suspect instead of calling Bellevue to have me committed."

 _In other words, I treated you like a normal person._

His smile remained. "Because you had accepted the unusual circumstances without pointing out the nature of them, I discovered that I could trust you. I still do."

Surprised by his calm nature and his comments, she turned her attention back to the traffic. For the first nine months, she had known that she was risking her career by professionally ignoring his actions and unusual comments, but she had felt that they were somehow related to Henry's presence on the train, his fall off the roof of Grand Central Station, and his subsequent visit to her hospital bed. She, however, didn't know how much her actions had meant to him even back then.

"Thank you for moving me into my office this morning. I cannot begin to express my gratitude for your quick thinking. If something had happened—."

Once again, he had rendered her speechless, this time with his deductions of what had happened while he was unconscious. She pondered his last few words, and she became elated and relieved at the same time. She had just proven her ability to guard his secret.

She let go of his hand, slipped it out from under his, and rested hers on his. "It's clichéd, but that's what friends are for."

They rode for a few seconds in silence. The start of Henry's voice caught her attention. "Out of curiosity, what were you watching?"

" _Smallville_. It's not that old, but…"

"Smallville? As in Superman?"

She turned her head and raised her eyebrows at his unexpected knowledge of a pop culture reference.

He softly chuckled. "Superman was Abe's favorite series of comic books when he was a child. Yes, comic books. Despite Lucas' insistence, 'graphic novel' appears to be a more recent coinage."

It was her turn to smile. Given both his own and his father's pasts, Abe's interest in Superman was quite fitting. She made a mental note to inform Henry that the show was about Clark Kent's teen and young adult years.

She began the last few blocks of the drive. She looked over at him as he told her about one time that he had looked for a special issue for Abe. She now knew why she had heard the voice of Aaron Brown's widow just before their swim yesterday. When Jo had presented Henry with his family photograph, they had been given a second chance at their friendship. Since the beginning, he had trusted her so much that he had let her get quick glimpses at who he really was. This time, though, he was able to be himself around one of the few people who believed him. She was glad that she was one of them.

* * *

As she stopped the car, he leaned over, removed the ibuprofen from the glove compartment, and shook out two pills. He squinted as he put the bottle back in its place. He then threw the pills in his mouth and swallowed them.

She wrinkled her nose. "Ew!"

He smirked as they got out of the car. "I have consumed much worse—a bad batch of oysters and gin, one particular brand of Irish lager, Abe's first attempt at cooking—."

"You've been to Ireland?" She smiled as she closed her door. "Please don't tell me you've kissed the Blarney Stone."

"I have." He quickly joined her side. "I'm quite afraid that my mother, if she were here, would inform you that my 'gift of gab' was likely given to me in early childhood."

She chuckled as she imagined a very young Henry Morgan talking to everyone in London. She wished that she could had seen that.

The activity in the area abruptly focused her attention onto the task at hand. Several patrol cars lined the street near the nondescript building while Mike's car sat near the intersection. Officers stood by the cars, ready to enter the building on her word.

"The egg might not be the only stolen object that Marcus is hiding."

Jo didn't follow. "What makes you say that?"

"The location of the building. The majority of the antiques shops, art galleries, and art insurance companies are located on the Lower East Side, Gramercy, and the East Village. Marcus' shop should had been located there as to attract business."

Henry had a point. Every time that they had investigated a case involving artwork, they had never left the eastern half of Manhattan. Even Abe had selected the area when he had opened the antiques shop.

Mike finished fastening his bulletproof vest and jogged up to them. "Took you long enough to get here."

"We got stuck in traffic."

Henry's presence reminded Jo of Abe's visit this morning. "Abe said something about changing art history. Exactly what are we looking for?"

"The _troika_ held a lost Faberge Easter egg entitled 'Ship at Sea'. It was made in 1910 to commemorate the fifteenth wedding anniversary of Urkesh's king to one of Tsar Nicholas II's cousins. During Urkesh's revolution in 1956, the revolutionaries removed the egg from the royal palace and placed it in the armory. It was sold it at an auction here in New York, but it has been considered lost since then."

Mike rolled his eyes. "An Easter egg? Like the ones my boys and I dye every year? After a century, that has to be one rotten egg."

"This one is made from hand-shaped gold, and the sapphires and diamonds which stud it resemble cresting waves." Henry's authoritative voice and faraway expression told of his glimpse at it once in the past.

Jo's eyes widened at its extravagance. That would be a clear motive for murder.

"So, how do you know about this egg, Doc?" Mike's question directed her attention toward Henry.

"I read about it in the newspaper some years ago." The hitch in his voice before it slightly rose meant that he was telling only part of the truth.

 _Did Abigail read the article over Henry's shoulder after they sent Abe off to school?_ Jo remained still for a moment. She was surprised by both the unanticipated question and by the peace and mental clarity that it brought.

She looked at the antiques shop and back at Mike. "You take John and Rob around back." She turned to the immortal medical examiner. "Henry—."

"I know. Stay with the car until you give the all-clear signal."

She hated herself. His uncharacteristic behavior—as a result of one of her orders—was already a habit for him. "I was thinking that we enter the shop together."

His eyes widened in pleasant surprise. Before he had the chance to speak, she turned, removed her gun from behind her back, and moved toward the building. She smiled as she heard Henry's steps keep in time with hers. _Just like old times._

"How large is the egg?"

"About seven and a half centimeters."

 _I know you didn't use the metric system back when you were a kid. It wasn't invented yet._ "English, Henry!"

"About three inches."

Jo swallowed. Unless it was prominently displayed, they would never find it. If it were hidden, the judge might dismiss the case if they actively searched for it.

They soon reached the door. As she stopped to open it, she could hear the faint ticks of Henry's watch in his vest pocket and feel his breath on her head. She gripped her gun and opened the door.

* * *

Minutes later, Jo and the team checked every room of the shop for Marcus. Once she realized that he wasn't there, she looked around the retail area.

It was no wonder why she had suddenly become nervous in Henry's office. The space was filled with every type of antique artwork that she could imagine. For Henry, any piece could send him for a trip down memory lane as he remembered watching long-dead artists craft their pieces or his conversations with the artists. Because of his resulting excitement, either of them could accidently slip and reveal a telling detail about his past.

As she scanned the room, she could no longer feel Henry behind her. She looked around until she saw his figure in the far corner. He stood transfixed, and his eyes focused on something on the wall. Uncertain if he was experiencing a repeat of yesterday's events, she walked over to him.

She quickly joined his side and turned to face the wall. A portrait in a familiar-looking style hung across from them. The older man stared back at them, with his thinning brown hair pulled back into what looked like a ponytail and his blue suit highlighting his white, ruffled neckwear. Some of his facial features reminded her of Henry.

Her eyes widened at the realization. _I'm looking at one of Henry's relatives._

She glanced at her partner. His eyes were moistened, and his Adam's apple bobbed. If he stood there much longer, he would start crying.

Jo leaned over to his ear and lowered her voice. "You can tell me about him later."

He turned to her, and his eyes widened. He then swallowed and nodded.

As she let him regain his composure, she looked around for eavesdroppers. To her relief, everyone had been more focused on searching the premise for the egg than on them.

He turned around and looked out into the space. His distant look told her that his memories wouldn't let him return to the present just yet.

"Who painted the portrait?" She turned around, and they began walking.

"Most wealthy families preferred for Joshua Reynolds and George Romney to paint their portraits. Some families—." The squawk of a police radio finally brought Henry back into the modern era. "Most people recognize Gilbert Stuart's work from George Washington's picture on the dollar bill, but they don't know that he had spent eighteen years in London painting portraits of wealthy families prior to his arrival back in the United States."

 _That's why the painting was familiar._

They soon reached a desk on the side of the shop. Jo picked up one of the pictures and showed it to Henry. The photograph showed Marcus in a white judo suit with a black belt.

Mike's voice caught their attention. The officer near him looked confused. "Yes, an Easter egg. Ask Doc."

Henry started toward them when he stopped at a table. He looked at two large vases sitting on it. He quickly pulled a pair of gloves out of his coat pocket and slipped them on.

She looked at the table, but she couldn't see anything. She hoped that Henry didn't find the egg in a vase. If he had, then their case against Marcus would be over.

She walked over to him and started to open her mouth when she saw a small golden object on the table—in plain sight. Henry seemed to notice it at the same time, and he picked it up. Her jaw dropped. The egg was more beautiful than he had described.

He lifted the top of the egg. Jo gasped as a ship-shaped clock appeared in the hand-carved hollow. "This is indeed Faberge's work." His voice had the same faraway tone that he had used just moments earlier.

She looked at him as he closed it and laid it back down in the precise spot and position that he had found it so it could be documented and bagged. This egg had reminded Henry of his past when he had seen it for the first time, and it had remained in his memory ever since.

Before she could ask him why Marcus would hide the egg there, she heard additional footsteps behind her.

"What are you doing here?"

The unfamiliar voice caused her to turn to him. Marcus Baxter, dressed in his judo suit, stood in the space. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Henry staying by her side. As he wasn't moving between her and Marcus, he must have believed that their suspect was harmless right now.

She looked at Marcus. She had a lot of questions to ask him.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : To satisfy your curiosity, when I wrote the part about Jo's TV viewing shortly after Henry's revelation, _Smallville_ popped in my head, and I remembered a relative of mine catching a few minutes of that storyline. Jo's ability to catch an episode without the DVDs is from my imagination.

The Easter egg "Ship at Sea" is based on the real-life Faberge Easter eggs entitled "Third Imperial Egg" and the "Yusupov Egg". "Third Imperial Egg" was commissioned by Tsar Alexander III as a present for his wife Empress Maria Fedorovna to commemorate Easter. Alexander presented the egg to Maria on Easter in April 1887. During the Bolshevik Revolution, it was transferred from the palace to the Moscow Kremlin Armoury in 1917. It was under the care of Ivan Gavrilovich Chinariov in 1922, but it somehow was sold at an auction in New York in 1964 and again at a bric-a-brac market in 2004. Faberge researchers learned of the egg's survival in 2011 when they found a picture of it in an American auction catalog from the 1960s. In 2012, the American scrap dealer who bought it at the sale researched the egg on Google before selling it. Faberge experts confirmed that it was the lost egg.

The Yusupov Egg was created in 1907. It was commissioned by Count Felix Felixovich Sumarokov-Elston (later Prince Felix Yusupov), the General Governor of Moscow, as a present to his wife Zinaida Yusupova, a member of a wealthy Russian family of nobles, to commemorate their 25th wedding anniversary.

Yes, both eggs are really that small. The "Third Imperial Egg" is 3.2 inches (8.2 centimeters) high, while the


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note** : One note about the summary: I changed the characters in the summary on the Forever fan fiction page to reflect a pre-established relationship Jenry pairing. I forgot to do that when I first published the story. [embarrassed emoji] Sorry!

I hope that you will enjoy this chapter.

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

Henry peered through the window of the observation room. Jo, Hanson, and Marcus, now dressed in a red polo shirt and denim jeans, took their seats, and began the preliminary questioning as Lt. Reece entered the room.

It was incredible to believe that almost a year had passed since he had first met Jo. At the time, he was a frightened lost soul who was ready to leave his life in New York behind the moment that his secret was exposed. Now, with Jo's friendship and acceptance of him, he had little desire to run, and it felt as though he was beginning to find his way through life again.

He watched Jo as she questioned Marcus. He now knew why he had heard the voice of his cellmate in Southwark Prison telling him to have faith and to start over yesterday and why his mind had returned to both Clark Walker's and Aaron Brown's deaths. Throughout their first nine months of working together, Jo was the only person who believed him when no one else, aside from Abe, would. When she had presented him with the photograph of Abigail, Abe, and himself, it was a chance to start over. All he needed was to have faith that she would continue to believe him and that she would remain his friend.

It had been difficult to have faith that things would work out after Jo had distanced herself from him. There were times in which he had feared that he had irreparably ruined their friendship because of his lies. On those occasions, he felt like surrendering to the idea that he should dissociate himself from her to protect her from further pain. Still, Jo had occasionally shown cordiality toward him, and that and Abe's support of them had given him a small degree of hope that their relationship would survive and would deepen as it had after he took Clark Walker's life. Now, he was glad that he hadn't given up on their friendship.

He glanced down at his right wrist. It felt good to be freed from the burden of keeping his immortality a secret from almost everyone but his family. For the past thirty years, he had felt bound by the deception which was necessary to protect himself from those who sought to expose him. Even though he had carefully constructed his life to avoid the grief associated with lost relationships, he occasionally had found himself longing for the freedom to be himself around others and to trust them. Jo, without knowing it, gave him that freedom over the past year, but it had taken him time—and their swim yesterday—to consciously accept it. When he woke up on the sofa in his lab this morning, he had felt liberated from the secrecy of his past.

He reached over and rubbed his wrist one final time. As he finished the motion, he studied his hands, and he was reminded of his and Jo's conversation en route to Marcus' shop and of his discussion with Abe last night. Perhaps Abe was correct with his insights into his father's current behavior. Maybe his subconscious mind _was_ slightly prone to accept suggestions in whatever form they took.

"Henry?"

He quickly dropped his hands and inserted them into his pants pockets as he turned toward Lt. Reece. Although she tried to maintain a neutral expression, fatigue showed in her eyes.

"I have spent the last three months in meetings with my superiors and with Internal Affairs because of the actions of a couple of other detectives in the precinct, so I haven't been able to ask this: Are you and Jo okay?"

Jo's voice drifted into the room through the speaker. Henry immediately knew what his answer was. "We will be."

Lt. Reece raised her eyebrows. She wanted a definite answer, not a vague one. Telling her the whole truth wasn't possible at this time, but he should tell her what he could.

He inhaled. "I take full responsibility for the tensions between Jo and myself over the past three months. I've told her a few things about myself that has changed her view of me, and it has taken us some time to adjust to her knowledge about my life. I honestly believe that things are returning back to normal and that they will stay that way in the future."

Lt. Reece remained expressionless as she took a moment to consider his words. "I'm not sure that I even want to know what you've told her. If you've mentioned your naked sleepwalking to her, though, I hope that she won't be surprised by your next arrest for indecent exposure. That is, if you haven't invested in some pajamas by now."

Frozen by her words, he stared at the lieutenant. She had no idea how close she was to the truth. He felt a very slight urge to flee the room and the country, but it left him as rapidly as it had entered his thoughts.

She shifted her weight, signaling her desire to focus on Marcus' interview. He turned back to the window. Lt. Reece had unwittingly brought up an excellent point. There _would_ be a recurrence of his "naked sleepwalking" incidents. Someday, he and Jo would find themselves in a situation in which he would need to die while in the field. Jo would be unable to leave out the details of his death and awakening unless one of her superiors knew the truth and was willing to cover for her if the other superiors and Internal Affairs began to ask questions.

Telling Lt. Reece about his condition would be the logical next step. She knew almost everything that happened in the precinct. She likely was already aware of the existing discrepancies in several of Jo's reports, and she also had her suspicions about his behavior. She could piece together the disparate pieces of information from Jo and Hanson, the patrol officers, and the incoming arrest records, and she would be able to determine the truth from the accounts alone—if she hadn't surmised it already. Telling Lt. Reece about his immortality would not only give her the pieces of information which he had been withholding from her but also provide Jo with the support which she needed in performing her job.

"So, Marcus." Jo's voice drew Henry's attention to the conversation in the other room. "How did you become interested in antique artwork? Did you fall in love with it during a class trip to a museum? Did a favorite relative of yours collect it? Drooled over it at estate sales?"

Henry suppressed a smile. Jo had obviously asked Abe why he had specialized in antique papers and gems in addition to the pottery, glassware, and furniture in the shop when he had dropped off the _troika_ earlier this morning.

"I just got bitten by the bug. Doesn't everyone in this profession?"

Jo smiled and chuckled. "That's not what I've heard."

Marcus leaned forward. "Well, your sources are an exception to the rule. The only way that you can't be bitten by the bug is if you were born in the wrong century."

Henry stiffened. Did Marcus know anything about him?

Jo's relaxed appearance, on the other hand, suggested that she had deemed Marcus to be safe. She leaned forward and looked directly at their suspect. "I was just wondering. I've always been curious about why people would become antique dealers."

Henry smiled as his eyes widened in pleasant surprise. Jo's last experience in the theatre might have been in grade school, but she was still quite the actress.

"I would love to tell you more about the profession, if you like." Marcus' smile widened as he looked at Jo.

Hanson leaned across the table. "Do you want to know what I would love to know about? The paintings and the vases in your shop. They have to be worth a pretty penny. How did you get them?"

Marcus turned to Hanson. "I found them at various estate sales and auctions around New York. They were for sale at a decent price, so I bought them."

Henry stared at their suspect. Jo had told him on the way to the interrogation room that she had emailed Abe a photograph of Marcus, and Abe had denied ever seeing the man anywhere in New York. Abe's fellow antique dealers likely wouldn't have seen the man either.

Jo nodded as she reached into the folder, pulled out a picture of Rodney, and laid it on the table in front of Marcus. "Do you know this man?"

Marcus looked down at the photograph. He began to pale, and he swallowed.

As he looked back up at Jo, he appeared calmer. "Yeah. I went to see him about insuring the antiques. Dandridge recommended him to me when I was trying to find a place to set up shop earlier this month. Is he dead?"

Henry remembered the name "Dandridge". He was the client whom he and Jo had interviewed yesterday afternoon.

Jo removed the photograph from the table and inserted it back in the folder. "Where were you two days ago?"

"I went to judo class that morning, and I spent the rest of the day in the shop before going to bed that evening." He chuckled as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. "You don't think that _I've_ had anything to do with Rodney's death, do you?"

Jo expressionlessly stared at him. He had guessed the truth.

Under Jo's gaze, Marcus uncrossed his arms and straightened his posture.

"Did you know that there was an Easter egg in your shop?"

Lt. Reece turned to Henry and raised her eyebrows. Without taking his eyes off Jo and Hanson, he replied, "This one is a golden egg created by Carl Faberge."

She turned back to the conversation in the other room. "That's one expensive egg."

Surprised by her knowledge, he looked at her. "I've never fancied you to be an appreciator of Faberge's work."

"I've read an article about him once. It was interesting."

Before he could reply, Marcus' voice piqued Henry's curiosity. "I found the egg in this box at an estate sale in Midtown last Friday. It was one of the pieces that I wanted Rodney to insure. He said that he wanted to take it to a Faberge expert to authenticate it for insurance purposes, so I agreed to let him."

Henry narrowed his eyes. He _knew_ that Marcus was lying.

Jo shifted in her seat. "We showed it to our own Faberge expert, and he said that it was real."

Henry remembered that they had called one to the scene before they left Marcus' shop. The Faberge expert excitedly recognized the egg from a photograph of it which was dated from 1910. He needed to authenticate it, and Jo and Hanson promised him that they would deliver the egg to him once they had gained approval from their superiors.

Marcus suddenly looked curious. "Did he say how much it's worth?"

Hanson tilted his head from side to side. "It's in the eight-figure range."

Marcus pursed his lips and nodded. "I thought so." He looked up at the two detectives. "That's what Rodney said it was worth."

Henry recognized the look that Jo had on her face. He had last seen it three months ago when he had told her the truth about himself. It was the same look that she usually wore when she pieced together the clues and solved the case.

He looked back at Marcus and thought back to the other man's mention of the _troika_. He wished that Marcus would say something else about the egg. He leaned forward and stared intently at the scene in the next room.

"You're dying over there."

Lt. Reece's choice of words caused Henry to instantly divert his attention from the interview and stare at her in petrified confusion.

She turned to him. "Go in there and ask him whatever you're going to ask. Jo won't kill you."

While he calmed his nerves, Henry eased his way around his unofficial superior and opened the door. He stepped foot into the room and remained near the door.

He ignored Hanson's annoyed appearance and Jo's confused expression and looked at their suspect. "Did the egg come with a stand?"

"What? And who are you?" The man's genuinely confused expression erased any residual fears that Henry had about Marcus.

"Did the egg come with a stand when you had acquired it?"

A hint of moisture began forming on Marcus' forehead. "No. I didn't see any."

Henry started to step out of the room before remembering something. He turned around. "Out of curiosity, where is your judo class located?"

"Madison Street, just on the other side of Clinton."

He smiled. "Thank you." With that, Henry walked back to the interrogation room.

Lt. Reece stared at him as he returned to where he was standing earlier. "What was that about?"

"Faberge eggs always were mounted on removable egg stands. Marcus had tried to fit the egg into the _troika_ to hide it from interested buyers yesterday. The box's interior is roughly the same size as the egg itself, so he discarded the stand to fit the egg into the box. When he removed the stand, he left a gold flake in a corner of the _troika_. He forgot to hide the egg when he remembered the time that Jerry's shop opened."

"How do you know that?"

"The table which I found it on had a slight layer of dust on it, but the place where the egg laid was spotless."

"Where's the stand now?"

"It's in one of the vases in the shop."

"So, we can't use the stand and the box to prove Marcus' guilt in the theft of the egg."

"I'm afraid not." Disappointed that they couldn't use that piece of evidence, Henry looked back in the window. Jo and Hanson nonverbally conferred with each other before rising from their seats and leaving the room.

Jo opened the door. Hanson stepped into the area and closed the door behind them.

Jo looked at the group. "He's our guy. He looked nervous when he saw Rodney's picture, and he seemed more concerned about the egg's value than he was about Rodney." She turned to Henry. "I forgot to ask you earlier, but do you have any idea of how the murder occurred?"

Remembering their personal conversations from and to the precinct, Henry nodded. "He used his judo skills to kill Rodney, threw Rodney into the river, and then walked to his class without anyone questioning him about his whereabouts unless they saw the water on his clothes."

Jo gave him a curious look. He looked back at her, and she nodded. She understood that he had awakened there before.

Henry turned back to Hanson and Lt. Reece and hoped that they didn't catch his and Jo's exchange. "We can also charge him for art theft."

Hanson raised one eyebrow. "How?"

"Like you've mentioned, Hanson, the paintings by Monet, Reuben, Reynolds, and Stuart are worth at least tens of thousands of dollars apiece. For a fledging antiques shop, the purchase of even a few of them, or even one of the pieces by Monet or Reuben, would bankrupt the business. Yet, the artwork and the egg must have come from somewhere. One of the museums in Midtown was robbed last Friday, but the staff hasn't reported it to the NYPD yet."

Jo smiled in amazement. "How do you know that?"

"There were no estate sales in Midtown last Friday. Abe had complained about it while reading the newspaper at breakfast that morning."

Jo rolled her eyes and shook her head. Since she had learned that Abe was his son, she had begun to notice the times in which Abe seemed to regress into a second childhood.

Lt. Reece focused on the other room's occupant. "Ask him if he remembers leaving the box in Jerry Charter's shop the other day and why he had it with him. It might give us more information about why he had forgotten about the egg."

Jo nodded and walked back into the room with Hanson.

Sensing that he was no longer needed in the room, Henry turned and walked out the door. As he headed toward the elevators, he wondered when he should tell Lt. Reece the truth. He couldn't today; she had frightened him. He would have to do it soon, though.

He walked further down the hallway. As the events of the day replayed in his mind, a sense of familiarity grew stronger with each step. He stopped, leaned against the wall, and closed his eyes to remain composed.

Today was the first time in nearly sixty years—since the day that he had stopped being a doctor, really—in which he didn't feel the burden of keeping his secret from everyone while in a group situation. Today, one person in the group knew him and his thought process—and accepted both. He had almost forgotten what it had felt like.

Hearing footsteps in the distance, he continued his walk. He couldn't let anyone other than Jo catch him like this. As the steps grew closer, though, he hoped that Jo was behind him. If so, then he couldn't wait to talk to her.

* * *

"How's your headache?"

Henry turned around and saw Jo jogging up to him. He stopped to let her catch up. "It's much better now. Thank you for asking."

She quickly joined his side, and they began walking again. She leaned over and lowered her voice. "When was the last time that you saw the egg?"

Seeing the egg again brought back memories. "A long time ago."

He glanced over at her and smiled. She was smiling, and she was quite comfortable with his vague response. Later, when they had a few minutes alone, he could tell her of a Russian doctor named Henrich Morein, Carl Faberge's presentation of the egg at an Imperial dinner party in 1910, one very persistent photographer whom he had spent the evening hiding from, and a six-year-old Alexei Nikolaevich who had reassured Henry that he hadn't told anyone—not even Grigori Rasputin—about Henry's awakening in Alexander Park nine months earlier.

She raised her voice back to its normal volume. "Have you given any more thought about what had happened to us?"

"I think that the past three months had been a very difficult time for us as we both had to adjust to your knowledge about my past. Our emotions and our subconscious thoughts were so powerful that they caused us to block out everything whenever we were reminded of it. When we resolved our issues, our mental clarity returned."

She nodded. "That would explain the blackouts. What about your reaction to the man grabbing you and you rubbing your wrist?"

"His action subconsciously reminded me of that period in my life. As for his words, my mind apparently took them as a psychological suggestion instead of the insult that it was meant to be."

"So, you're a bit suggestible?"

His innate response was to feel insulted once again. One look at Jo, however, instantly and unexpectedly dispelled any offense that he held.

She smiled. "Remind me to watch your drinking the next time we go out to McSorley's. Lucas and Mike might convince you to do something that's uncharacteristic for you if they knew that." She paused for a moment. "Do me a favor. Keep an eye on my drinking as well. After what happened yesterday, I don't trust myself around those two right now."

He chuckled. A drunken state, two men who were trying to bring him "out of his shell", and his natural desire to trust others would produce the conditions for him to submit to Lucas' and Hanson's suggestions, no matter how ludicrous they were. "I'll keep that in mind."

They walked in silence for a moment. It felt just as comfortable as it always had been. No, this time, it was as though they had enjoyed each other's company for many years instead of the short time that they had known each other.

Suddenly, she stopped and stepped back. "Who was the man in the portrait?"

He glanced above her head and noticed their location. He then looked into her curious brown eyes. He searched them for a reason as to why she had selected the natural recess created by the building's architects to house the plumbing and electrical infrastructures.

As he gazed into her eyes, his mind suddenly went blank, and he felt himself drawn to her side. He submissively stepped into the space between her and the wall and rotated his head toward her as he turned around. She slid down the wall and sat down. He mirrored her actions, and he crossed his legs as he lowered himself to the floor.

His heart started racing as she held his gaze. He felt the natural urge to avert his eyes from hers, but he found himself unable and unwilling to do so. In fact, he was taking great pleasure in his activity.

The tension in his neck, however, abruptly alerted him to its presence. He blinked as he slowly and reluctantly turned his head to ease the pain. For a brief moment, he unexpectedly wished that the particular spell that he had just fallen under would never be broken.

He looked around his surroundings. She had selected their spot and positions in an attempt to afford them some privacy. Their lowered posture and their location within the hallway essentially hid them from the prying eyes and ears of her fellow colleagues while the reflections in the windows across from them would alert them to any passing officers.

Her question echoed in his head. At other times, he would long for a different time and place to talk to her about his past. This time, that yearning was non-existent.

He stared at the wall to maintain his composure and to lower his voice so that she would be the only one who would hear him. "David Henry Morgan, my grandfather."

"You're named after your grandfather?" A touch of awe in her voice mixed with her curiosity.

He looked back at her and nodded. Memories flooded back, and he forced himself to turn his attention back to the wall to keep them from overwhelming him. "He was an honest man, and one filled with integrity. His beliefs were his principles, and it showed in the way that he treated every human being with dignity and respect. For instance, he commissioned Gilbert Stuart to paint his portrait when no other family whom we were associated with would employ his services because of his life in America.

"Grandfather was loving and doting toward his grandchildren. As he believed that my education was important, he and my mother were the only two adults in my family who encouraged my interest in reading and the world."

The reflection of a couple of patrol officers caught his attention. "Occasionally, he and my old man would argue about the direction of the family business. Until his death, my grandfather would win the arguments every time."

As the officers passed, he allowed himself to return to the past. The memories were like faint ghosts in front of his eyes instead of the full visions that he usually saw seconds before each death.

"Were you two close?"

Jo's question brought him back to the present. "We were very close. Growing up, I spent as much time with him as possible, and I enjoyed every moment of our time together. The rest of the family often commented that we were quite a bit alike." He swallowed as tears began to form in his eyes. "Unfortunately, he died when I was 17."

He reached into his waistcoat's pocket and fingered his pocket watch as the memories of his grandfather's death came back. "Given my father's reprehensible actions, I initially refused to take my watch when he died. I accepted it only because I knew that it had been in Grandfather's possession before it was in Father's." That knowledge usually prompted him to search for his watch every time he lost it during a death.

"You miss him." That wasn't a question from Jo; it was an observation.

He nodded and looked down at the ground. He wished that his grandfather could be alive to see the modern era. His voice dropped to a near whisper. "I wonder what he would think of all this."

He thought about what had transpired over the course of 200 years. On the one hand, Grandfather would be enthralled with the technological and social changes that had occurred, and he would be ecstatic about the changes in Henry's life. He would likely spend a considerable amount of time learning everything about every technological advancement in existence. He would invite Jo. Lucas, Hanson, and Lt. Reece to dinner so that he could learn about their lives and their decision to enter law enforcement or, in Lucas' case, forensic medicine. Grandfather would enjoy doting on his adopted great-grandson—to the point where Henry might be forced to discourage Abe from taking advantage of his adopted ancestor—and he would be heartbroken to learn what had happened to Abigail.

Henry swallowed. On the other hand, Grandfather's response to his grandson's immortality and its implications frightened Henry. He had greatly admired the older man, and he absorbed every lesson that Grandfather had taught him, whether it was in knowledge, wisdom, or character. Violating his and his grandfather's core principle of honesty by lying in order to survive a very long life—and passing the horrible trait down to Abe—filled Henry with shame, and he knew that it would outrage his grandfather just as his father's turn to the slave trade had angered him.

"Listen." Jo's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "I obviously don't know your grandfather. If he's anything like you, though, he wouldn't condone the measures that you've taken, but he probably would try to understand where you're coming from. Besides, something tells me that there is a very small chance that you wouldn't be the only Morgan with your condition living in New York."

He nodded; she had made an excellent point. Grandfather had abhorred the slave trade, and he had worked tirelessly to end it, even on the day before his death. If he had joined Henry aboard _The Empress of Africa_ , he would have sacrificed his life for the slaves as well, whether it resulted in immortality for him or not.

He sat for a moment in thought. He then surveyed his surroundings before he turned back to Jo. He looked at her in utter amazement. In this moment, she was balancing his need for secrecy with his desire for friendship. He wasn't sure if her actions originated from her protection of Sean or from any times that she spent being an outsider, but he was grateful for her sensitivity to his predicament.

He suddenly hated the brief intervals of time in which they had talked over the past year. They were pleasant, but they did not afford either of them the time to properly gain knowledge of each other. He wished that he could spend more time with her, such as their few meals together and their time in the pool yesterday.

He saw her face, and he felt himself drawn to her eyes again. The thoughts in his mind ceased, and he could feel himself falling back under her spell once again.

"Finally! About time!"

Henry startled and blinked. As he calmed himself, he looked toward the offending voice. He noticed Hanson's and his cell phone's reflections in a far window.

"I'm going to yoga class tonight, if you don't mind. I seriously need it... They did?... Yeah…. Sure…. Uh, huh…. That'll be great. When do you want to do it?...Yeah, sure, I'll ask them." He listened for a couple of more seconds.

Suddenly, he stopped and rolled his eyes. "Do I have to?!" His ego showed the last signs of a fight before surrendering to his wife's will. He huffed. "Okay. I will."

Henry looked over at Jo and tried not to gaze into her eyes again. He could tell that both of them sensed that their personal time had ended. Together, they rose from their seats as Hanson ended his conversation with Karen.

Hanson gratefully noticed Henry and Jo moments after they stepped back into the hallway. "There you two are. I was about to go looking for you."

Jo smiled at him. "What's up?"

Hanson smiled back at them. "We've finally finished moving into our new house this morning. Karen wants to throw a housewarming-slash-back-to-school party. Since Donnie and Matt have found a swimming pool in our backyard, she wants to make it a pool party."

Hanson's new house sounded familiar. Did he live there once?

Jo echoed Henry's confusion. "Wait a minute. Your house has a swimming pool in the backyard?"

Hanson nodded. "Not really. It was built back in the 1970s, and the builders placed a community pool a few feet away from our back door. The boys are thrilled about it."

Henry suddenly recognized the area. He and Abigail had eyed a house in that development when they had needed to move in 1976. When they had seen the swimming pool in the area, they questioned the rationale of the builders and decided against living there.

Hanson inhaled and pulled Henry from the past. "Anyways, she wants you two to come to the party." He sighed. "She also wants me to invite Abe and Lucas so she can get to know them better." He looked at Henry. "Doc, I like Abe, and I don't mind inviting your roommate." He sighed again. "It's Lucas. He can be so annoying at times…."

Henry suppressed a smile; he knew the feeling.

Hanson continued. "She wants to hold it this Saturday. Our boys will be there, but that doesn't mean we adults can't have fun too."

Henry bit his lower lip in thought. A pool party could provide him and Jo some time to speak privately with each other when the others engage in conversation. Their time together wouldn't be much, but the party would be a start.

He looked over at Jo. Her eyes shone at the prospect of a time of enjoyment. Her mouth opening and closing several times indicated that memories of her life with Sean caused her to hesitate.

His heart instantly broke for her. When they were investigating Aaron Brown's death, Hanson had mentioned that Jo had distanced herself from Karen after Sean's death and that it had hurt Karen deeply. Based on one of Jo's comments in the past, Henry was certain that Jo had isolated herself because she had felt that Hanson and Karen's marriage would bring back painful memories for her. As a result, Jo had inadvertently dissolved a close friendship in her efforts to protect herself from her grief.

She needed to go to this celebration—both for the redevelopment of the two women's friendship and for the pleasure of some recreational time—but he wanted a way to convince her that she should. Seeking a solution, he remembered his and Jo's friendship so far. With the exception of drinks at McSorley's, she had started spending less time at work and even had begun dating again—only after _he_ had done something similar. _Maybe…_

He turned to Hanson. "I'll discuss it with Abe and Lucas. As for me, you have your first response. I'll be happy to attend the celebration." As he spoke, he could imagine Lucas' enthusiastic hug and Abe's gleeful countdown to the event.

He looked at Jo. Her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open. She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times. Finally, she found her voice. "I'm coming too."

Hanson raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth in surprise. After a few seconds, he responded, "Great! I'll see you then."

As they watched Hanson walk away, Jo stared at him. "Are you sure about this?"

He could hear one area of his mind scream that this was an ill-conceived idea that would surely result in disaster. He quickly silenced the thought. He had longed for more time with Jo, and this would provide him with an excellent opportunity to spend time with her.

"I'm sure."

She considered his appearance and nodded. "It's time, right?"

He knew what she meant from her near whisper. "I'll be there with you. If your conversation with Karen becomes uncomfortable, you can always come and talk to me."

She thought for a minute. "Thanks."

She suddenly smiled at him as they continued walking to the elevator. "Well, a pool party will be fun. It's not every day that we get to do something like this."

He smiled back at her. "This will be my first one."

She looked puzzled for a moment and then recognized the significance of the social. "I'm holding you to the same agreement that you have with me. If you need to talk, just swim over to me."

"Thank you."

Just as they reached the elevators, one opened. Henry stepped into it.

Jo looked at him. "I'll see you later."

"If I don't see you again today, have a good evening, Detective."

As the elevator doors closed, he fantasized about the pool party. His smile widened as he realized that it would also present him with another opportunity to see Jo in a swimsuit. The black one-piece suit that she wore yesterday was very modest, but it certainly flattered her figure.

He quickly stopped his thoughts. He had just buried Abigail three months ago. Although Abigail had disappeared and died thirty years ago, he should observe the proper time of mourning for her. It meant that he should refrain from such thoughts.

Even if he had completed the time of mourning, he still shouldn't think about Jo in that manner. She was his friend. Such thoughts indicated a more intimate relationship than what they had at the moment. He didn't want any miscommunication to occur as a result of his thoughts.

He couldn't stop smiling as the elevator car descended down to the morgue. This weekend, he would be doing something new, and he would be spending time with a dear friend. Much to his surprise, he was looking forward to the gathering.

When the elevator stopped, his smile faded. He swallowed as he stepped out of the car. Now, he just needed to mention the party to Lucas….

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I have always intended this multi-chapter story to be a relatively short one. The next chapter will be the last one. I hope that you have been enjoying it so far.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note** : I'm sorry about the wait. I became inspired to write a couple of chapters in my other multi-chapter story and a couple of one-shots, both which are still works in progress, so this chapter was placed on the back burner.

For everyone's curiosity, Lucas practically tackles poor Henry at the end of the last chapter.

This will be the final chapter. I hope that you will enjoy it.

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

Jo couldn't believe that she was doing this. She was attending a pool party.

She parked her car near the front of the brownstone house that Mike and Karen had chosen. As she looked at it, she smiled and shook her head. The house was built to resemble the ones in the East Side, but several small details screamed the building's true age.

She double-checked the knot on her sarong. Once satisfied, she climbed out of the car, walked around to the trunk, and took out her duffle bag, a porcelain vase, a bag containing a book and candy, and a case of beer. She then slung the duffle bag over her shoulder, placed the bag on her forearm, and set the beer and the vase on the ground.

At the same time that she closed the trunk, she heard a pair of car doors close. Her smile grew wider as she picked up the items on the ground and arranged the housewarming gifts in her arms. Henry and Abe were here.

"Good afternoon, Detective."

She turned to Henry and saw him standing at his door. She juggled the objects in her arms around to keep the vase from falling. "Hi, Henry!"

He stepped over to her, his bag over his shoulder and a smile on his face. "Allow me to take something for you."

The vase suddenly slipped out of her arms. Before she could react, he skillfully caught it in mid-air and cradled it in his arm.

"Thanks." She started to ask him where his housewarming gift was, but the sight of Abe carrying a basket toward the house stopped her.

"Yeah, sure." Abe seemed mockingly annoyed at his father. "Make your kid do all the hard work." He then smiled at Jo. "Hey, there."

"Hi, Abe."

She looked back at Henry. Her eyes widened in surprise as she noticed his NYPD t-shirt and sweat pants. She had never seen him dressed this casually—voluntarily—before. She started to think that he had gone for an unexpected swim a few hours before, but she then saw his dry, combed hair and his dress shoes. Apparently, he had worn his "uniform" to prevent another arrest while Abe was driving him to the party.

Henry looked at her. "Shall we?"

She nervously glanced at the door and bit her lower lip. It had been almost two years since she had last seen Karen. During their last conversation, something that Karen had said reminded Jo of Sean. She quickly excused herself and never returned. Karen had called her a few times afterward, but Jo had always let them go to voicemail. Now, Jo didn't know what Karen would say or think.

Jo turned to Henry. He had done practically the same thing after Abigail had left him. In his case, though, he now was starting over with people who never knew him, his wife, the circumstances of their separation, or her death. The lack of shared history with everyone made conversations uncomfortable for him.

She suddenly remembered their pact and inhaled. "Okay. Let's do this."

They walked up the stairs and stood on the top step. With his free hand, Henry reached around her and knocked on the door.

Jo heard footsteps running through the house and an exasperated feminine voice yell, "Coming!"

Jo rolled her eyes. Donnie and Matt must have caused some type of trouble before the party had even started.

The door flew open, and Jo found herself face-to-face with a shocked Karen. The two women stood still for a moment before Karen threw her arms around Jo and pulled her into an embrace.

"Jo!" Karen pulled back. "I can't believe that you've decided to come." She inhaled. "Not seeing you for the past couple of years had hurt, but, after the Aaron Brown case, I think I understand now."

Tears began to form in Jo's eyes, and she nodded to keep her composure. "Well, I guess it's time." She then smiled. "A very good friend talked me into coming."

Karen narrowed her eyes in confusion as she stepped back into the house to let in her guests. Jo quickly realized that this was the first time in two years that she's mentioned one.

Once inside, the Morgan men join Jo inside the foyer. She set the beer down on the nearby table, slipped the bag off her arm, and held it by the handles. Henry placed the vase next to the beer before taking the basket from Abe.

Curious as to what Henry had brought, Jo peeked into the basket as he moved it into the arm closest to her. She wrinkled her eyebrows when she saw that the basket was filled with bread, honey, rice, olive oil, a bottle of wine, salt, candles, some old-looking coins, what looked like chocolate, and a plant in a wooden vase.

She looked back up at Henry and opened her mouth to ask him why he had brought food. Before she could even start her question, the sight of him extending his free hand to Karen stopped her.

"Dr. Hanson, it's a pleasure to meet you again, this time under more agreeable circumstances. Thank you for inviting us to your party."

Jo cocked her head. How did Henry know Karen's occupation? Then, it hit her. During the Aaron Brown case, Henry had met Karen after he had left Mike's hospital room, and he had deduced that she was a college professor from the nonverbal cues that he had seen.

Karen shook Henry's hand. "It's nice to see you again, Henry. And, please, it's Karen."

Henry changed his position so that Abe could step forward. "Allow me to introduce you to my roommate, Abe."

Abe shook Karen's hand. "It's nice to meet you."

"My pleasure. Mike's been mentioning both of your contributions to his and Jo's cases, and I've been wanting to meet his new colleagues."

Jo looked over at the two men. Abe's eyes lit up with surprise and joy when he heard Karen's reference to him. On the other hand, Henry, in spite of his well-schooled expression, looked slightly confused for a moment.

Henry then handed his gift to her. "You likely have most of these in your pantry, but they're also traditional housewarming gifts. Ordinarily, each gift would be given in the various rooms of the house. As the practice has fallen out of custom over the years, I felt that putting them in a basket would be more appropriate for the occasion. Abe baked the bread earlier this morning, and I've included some chocolate candy for your sons."

Karen took the basket and examined the items before setting Henry and Abe's gift on the table with Jo's other presents. "Thank you."

Jo rolled her eyes up. _Of course! I should have known that he would go with a traditional gift!_

She glanced down at her bag and handed it to Karen. "I brought you guys a few things that I thought that you would like." She nodded to the other items. "I tried, but there was no way that I could fit them into the bag."

"Mike would appreciate the beer, and I definitely love the vase."

Karen pulled the book out of the bag and inhaled. "How did you know that I've wanted this book? Did Mike tell you?"

Jo opened her mouth in surprise several times. "No, he didn't. When I was at the bookstore this week, I remembered what you've had on your bookshelf, and this one just looked like something that you would be interested in."

Karen threw her arms around Jo again. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome."

Karen turned to her guests and began to study Henry's appearance. She finally looked at him with a confused expression on her face. "I thought Mike had said that you worked for the OCME. Why are you wearing clothes from the NYPD?"

Before Henry could answer, Mike entered the room, threw his arm around Karen's neck, and lowered his voice. "Doc has a penchant for skinny dipping."

Jo glanced over at Henry. He looked somewhat embarrassed by Mike's comment. Then again, for Henry, humiliation was better than exposure.

Mike looked at the trio. "Thanks for coming. Lieu said that she can't make it; it's against policy. So, I guess that we're still waiting for Lucas."

Jo looked at her official partner. "His train's running late?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

He released Karen and walked over to the table. He studied each item with interest. Soon, he jerked the bottle of wine out of the basket, examined it, and whistled.

He turned to Henry. "Wow! Doc, this is quite a generous gift. I'm sure Karen and I will enjoy it."

Henry shifted his weight. "You're quite welcome."

Mike smirked, turned back to the table, and gently inserted the bottle back into the basket.

Jo studied the expensive bottle of wine. After Henry had revealed his true age, she recalled their conversation about his expensive tastes, and, out of curiosity, she made a quick calculation. Her jaw dropped open when she had seen his estimated net worth. At that moment, his ability to enjoy the finer things in life on a medical examiner's salary made perfect sense. All of his luxuries were purchased with his significant savings.

Suddenly, a crash filled the air, startling Jo out of her memories. Mike looked toward the back of the house and marched in the direction of the sound. "Boys! Don't make me—."

Karen looked over at the trio. "I need to move the table and finish setting the snacks out."

Henry stepped a little closer to her. "Let me help you with your preparations."

"You don't have to—."

"I insist. Your husband will be busy with your sons, and you still need assistance."

Karen sighed with relief. "Thank you." She took the basket and the beer. "Let me put these in the kitchen first."

As they walked toward the back of the house, Jo heard Abe mutter, "Great! He decides to turn up his immortal charm today."

Jo stifled a giggle. "You'll have more time to talk to her later."

Abe turned to her. "I know."

Jo studied the older man. "I'm a little surprised that you came." She lowered her voice. "You know, since we're your dad's colleagues."

"And miss this?!" Abe grinned. "I've been looking forward to this since he mentioned it earlier in the week. I haven't been to a pool party in years."

He suddenly grew somber and lowered his voice. "I haven't seen Pops like this since we had lived in Hawaii. In some ways, I had begun to believe that this part of him had died forever after Mom had left us. It's good to see him wanting to spend a day with others outside of work again."

Jo looked down at the ground before nodding. For Henry, death meant the inability to have friends, to have a hometown, to trust others, and to see his life as a gift—to be denied everything that everyone else took for granted.

Yet, Henry was changing—and for the better. When she had first met him, he had called the train engineer on his autopsy table "lucky". Henry's subsequent involvement in the investigation breathed life into him, and, over the past year, she watched him wake up and start to live again.

She opened her mouth to ask Abe what he believed was the cause of the changes in Henry. As she began to form the first word, she heard the door slam behind her.

"Hey, guys!"

She and Abe turned around and saw Lucas standing in the doorway. Like the other men, he wore a t-shirt. Somehow, though, he was able to ride the subway in his swim trunks.

Lucas moved his shoulder to keep his bag from slipping. "Sorry I'm late. I had to wait for traffic while walking to the station. Then, I had to wait for my train. I thought that I would never make it. Where is everyone? I'm looking forward to this party."

Jo and Abe looked at each other. It was about time for the party to start.

* * *

They followed Karen outside and toward the area. Mike wasn't kidding when he had said that the community pool was in their backyard. All they had to do was cross their patch of grass to get to it.

Jo looked around. Tables, benches, and a couple of restrooms were on the other side of the pool. Henry and Karen had set the snack table in a corner of Mike and Karen's yard, and a couple of ice coolers sat near it. Nearby, Henry's bag laid under a second table with plates and cups on it.

Jo surveyed the area and quickly found Henry. He had removed his outer clothes, leaving only his red swim trunks.

The trunks drew her eyes upward, and she suddenly felt breathless. _What on Earth did he do in his first 35 years to get into that shape?!_ She had seen his physique once before, but this was the first time that she really studied it. It must have come from walking, swimming, climbing trees, lifting patients, and possibly horseback riding.

Feeling a little dizzy, she took a deep breath. The late summer air woke her out of her reverie. Henry had _just_ buried Abigail. Even if he had had time to grieve, Jo shouldn't think of her friend in that way; they weren't like _that_.

His scar caught her eye. She took another deep breath, this time to calm her nerves. Hopefully, no one else would notice it today.

Mike then walked into the yard with both boys in front of him. The exasperated look on his face told her that they still had a few more minutes left before the party's start.

She hurried back into the house. She dropped her bag, untied her sarong, and stuffed it into her bag. As she placed the handle on her shoulder, she checked the suit's fit. Satisfied, she walked out the door and to the tables.

Once there, she squatted down and set her bag next to Henry's. She listened for his watch, but she heard nothing. Apparently, he had left it at home today.

As she straightened, she felt a set of eyes on her. Hoping that Lucas wasn't watching her, she turned around. To her pleasant surprise, it was Henry.

He gave her a half smile. "I'm sorry, Detective. I was distracted."

She stepped over to him. "May I remind you that I'm usually armed?"

He softly chuckled, and she could see a bit of a twinkle in his eyes. His expression caused her smile to grow.

"Everybody?!" Mike's voice silenced the small group and prompted them to face him.

"First of all, thank you so much for coming. This is our first house, and you don't know how much it means to Karen and me to have you all here.

"Next, sodas and water are in the ice coolers for everyone. Hamburgers and hot dogs will be served later, so no complaints from any of you with fancy tastes."

Henry chuckled and leaned over. "If done right, they're not bad." He paused. "Baseball park fare."

Jo nodded. He and Abe had eaten some while watching the games at Yankee Stadium when Abe was a boy.

"Lastly," Mike's voice stopped her comment to Henry. "I'm glad that I asked if everyone could swim. There _are_ some games planned—"

Jo swallowed. Games were added because of Donnie and Matt. Would Henry join in?

She inhaled. Likely, he would. It was a part of the experience.

"Okay! Let's get this party started!" Mike looked down at his t-shirt and pants. "Nuts! I need to change."

The group walked over to the pool, climbed down the stairs, and slipped into the water. Jo pushed away from everyone and let the water relax her as she floated toward the middle of the pool.

She looked at Henry to see if he was coming. He stood frozen in place, and he stared at something past her.

"Abraham! _**NO!**_ "

She lowered her legs. What caused Henry to suddenly forget himself and slip into parent mode?

She turned in time to see Abe sit down at the deep end, stick his feet into the water, and slide into the pool. She held her breath the moment that he disappeared under the surface. A few seconds later, she exhaled as she watched Abe bob back up with a huge grin on his face.

"Still got it!"

Behind her, Henry breathed a sigh of relief. Jo sensed that Abe would hear a lecture when he and Henry would return to the car that evening.

As she let the younger Morgan pass her, she smiled. She was quite comfortable with the unusual circumstances. It didn't matter whether Henry was immortal. He was just like everyone else. Over the past year, it was his humanity that had caused the "weirdest, creepiest, most unusual person" she's ever met to become one of her good friends.

Suddenly, she felt something shove her, and she lost her balance. Her legs floated out from under her, and they started to carry her body with them. Within the next second, she felt a pair of strong hands enclose themselves around her upper arms. Surprised by the motion, she lifted her head up to see who caught her and found herself looking into Henry's face.

Her eyes drifted to his. The second that their eyes locked, her mind went blank, and she felt herself floating on the surface. She was so focused on Henry's caring eyes that she barely heard Donnie and Matt yell, "Sorry, Aunt Jo!"

Her heart started racing, and she felt the desire to avert her gaze. Yet, she didn't want to move, and the urge to look away quickly passed. She couldn't think of anything other than her enjoyment of the view.

"Okay! I got a rope for tug of war! Who's up for it?"

Jo startled at the sound of Mike's' voice and blinked. For a moment, she felt like that she was under a magic spell again. This time, she didn't want it to be broken—ever.

She lowered her legs, and Henry helped her to stand. They looked over toward Mike, who carried a rope in his hands.

Mike looked at his wife. "How are we going to do this?"

"We could count off."

Donnie swam up to Jo. "Can I join you, Aunt Jo?"

She turned to him. "Only if your mom and dad will allow it."

Behind her, Jo could hear Henry and Abe strategizing and Abe teasingly calling his father "Methuselah". Depending on how competitive they were, they might want to be on the same side.

She looked at Karen. "Are we picking sides?"

Karen looked at Matt and Lucas talking to each other and then back at Jo. "It looks like it." Karen swam over. "I definitely want to spend time with you today, but do you mind if I teamed up with Mike?"

Jo smiled. Karen had never wanted to compete against her husband; the boys' competitiveness caused enough trouble in their family. "Not a bit."

Karen breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks!"

Before either of them could say another word, Jo heard splashing behind her and Donnie asking, "Dr. Morgan, can I join you?"

Karen chuckled as Henry said yes. "It looks like we have our first team." She turned to her husband and back to Jo. "I'll get between Mike and Lucas. That should keep the peace between them."

"Hey!" Mike's voice rang out over the conversations. "Do we have our teams yet?"

Karen swam toward him. "I think so!"

Jo turned to Henry. "So, who's going where?"

He studied the group. "Donnie should be in the middle, and you and I should take the ends." He reached his hand behind his head and sheepishly grinned. "Your tackle leads me to say that it's your choice of where you want to be."

Abe leaned in. "I'll get in front of whoever is in the back."

She nodded. With Henry's act of chivalry, that meant that Abe should be in front of his father.

Before Jo could tease Henry, Mike cleared his throat. "Everybody ready?"

The four looked at each other as they took their positions. Jo spoke up as she walked toward Mike. "Yeah!"

Mike tossed the rope to her. She took the end and passed it back to the rest of the group.

She looked over at the other team. Mike had gone to the front, and Karen stood behind him. Lucas anchored the group.

Mike looked her in the eye. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

They both yelled, "Go!"

The second that she started pulling, she felt the rope move toward the other team. She rooted her feet to the bottom of the pool and pulled hard. Behind her, she could feel everyone else on her team following her lead.

She wrinkled her brows. It was almost as if they were pulling in a rhythm. She pushed the thought out of her mind. It was probably something that Henry had picked up on a ship, possibly even aboard _The Empress of Africa_ , a long time ago. She could ask him about it later.

She picked up their rhythm, but she sensed that it might be too late. She felt herself being dragged toward the middle of the pool. She adjusted her stance to give herself more leverage.

As she finished, a hard tug jerked her toward Mike. For the second time that day, she lost her balance, and her legs floated out from under her. She hoped that she didn't accidently kicked Donnie.

As she noticed that Donnie wasn't behind her, the rope went slack in her hands. Apparently, Mike's pull had caused the guys behind her to lose their balance too.

She lowered her legs and pushed her hair out of her eyes. She stared at a grinning Mike. "You did that on purpose!"

His eyes met hers. "All's fair."

Waves splashed on her. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Henry approach her partner. "Since bragging rights are on the line, how about making it best two out of three?"

Mike raised one eyebrow and then thought about it for a moment. "You're on!"

She looked at Henry. "If this is your idea of chivalry—."

He leaned over. "I'm not interested in losing to Lucas."

She stared at him as he walked back to his original location. He had never shown any competitiveness before.

She then smiled. Lucas would drive him crazy with his gloating if the assistant ME won.

They resumed their positions, and Jo's team picked up the rope. This time, with Jo learning Henry and Abe's rhythm, they pulled Mike, Karen, Matt, and Lucas over the pool's middle. The third time, both sides tugged until Jo, Henry, Abe, and Donnie yanked the others across the middle.

As Mike put the rope onto the ledge, Abe asked, "Now what?"

Lucas raised his hand. "What about water polo?"

Mike scowled. "We don't have enough players for it."

Henry's eyes got a faraway look in them. "The first—and last—time that I had played it, it was a free-for-all. Everyone pushed and wrestled each other for the possession of the ball. If you were tackled, you quickly found yourself with a suffocating fear of drowning as your opponent held you underwater. Even if you were able to score, the goalie could tackle you in an instant."

Jo stared at him. That was before the rules were established.

She chuckled at the image of Henry playing the sport. "Let me guess. You got tackled a lot?"

He lowered his head and sheepishly grinned. He then looked back up at her. "Unfortunately, yes."

Before she could ask him whether he scored any points, Donnie piped up. "What about Water Hoops?"

Henry looked at her, his eyes narrowed in confusion. "What?"

"It's basketball in the swimming pool."

"Basketball?"

Jo nodded. "You've never played basketball on land before."

She then heard splashing nearby. Matt shouted, "How about Marco Polo?!"

Donnie and Lucas both yelled, "Yeah!"

Henry gave her another confused look. "How is the explorer whose route took him over land connected to an aquatic activity?"

 _Good question_. "I don't know. I've never played it myself."

"What?!" Karen's voice caused her to turn around. A look of recognition crossed Karen's face. "It's like tag. The person who's 'it' yells 'Marco' to let everyone know that they're coming. Since the person is blindfolded or has their eyes closed, everyone else shouts 'Polo' as they try to get away."

Henry's eyes widened, and he started to get a faraway look in his eyes again.

Jo nudged him and he quickly returned to the present. "I haven't played that variant of tag since I was a child. It'll be interesting to play it in a pool."

"Great!" Karen started to swim toward an edge.

Jo looked at Henry. "Well?"

"I think that we need to find our initial positions."

* * *

After a few rounds of Marco Polo and a game of water Frisbee, Jo tiredly swam to the stairs and sat down on a step. She was enjoying herself, but she had forgotten how much stamina Donnie and Matt had.

"You too?"

She turned around and smiled at Karen as her friend joined her. "Yeah. I haven't been that active in ages."

"Me neither." She leaned over and lowered her voice. "I hid all the candy that everyone brought. That way, the boys won't get a sugar rush." She straightened up. "Mike went back inside for a clear bottle so that we can play invisi-bottle later."

"Something tells me that Henry will win that one hands-down. That is, if he doesn't help Donnie and Matt find it."

Karen nodded. She then smirked, almost as though she knew something that Jo didn't. "He's the one who talked you into coming. I can tell by watching you two that he's good for you. What's his story?"

"Quite the long one." Jo glanced down for a moment to carefully choose her next words. "Basically, he's had a bit of a rough start, but things might be starting to turn around for him."

Karen smiled. "I obviously don't know anyone like that before now, but sometimes, guys with those type of stories turn out to be the best ones."

Jo nodded and looked toward the other end of the pool. Henry, Abe, and Karen's sons sat beside each other on the edge of the pool, their feet dangling into the water. Matt sat beside Abe while Donnie was on the other side of Henry.

She smiled. Karen had an excellent point. Henry was the kindest, most compassionate, least judgmental person that she's ever met—even if he could drive her crazy at times. His traits were forged over the course of his life, and, honestly, it made him a good man.

Matt's voice suddenly drifted toward them. "How did you get your tattoo?"

Abe startled but turned to him. "Some mean men gave it to me when I was a baby. I'll let your mom and dad tell you about them later. Anyway, Mom and Pops found me and adopted me."

Karen and Jo looked at each other. Jo whispered, "Holocaust survivor. Auschwitz."

Karen's eyes widened in horror and then amazement. She mouthed, "Wow!"

"How did you get your scar?"

Donnie's question to Henry sent a cold chill through Jo and forced her to refocus her attention onto the group. Henry looked slightly panicked.

He sighed. "The story is not intended for young ears, and, honestly, I prefer not to talk about it."

A splash at the deep end of the pool attracted Jo's attention. She jumped at the sight of Lucas. He apparently had remained there while everyone else got out to rest.

Lucas studied Henry as the assistant ME righted himself. Then, he placed his hand on the area in the same location as Henry's scar. He looked down, and his mouth dropped open. Within the next second, he started to grow excited.

 _Nuts!_ Lucas didn't have as much information as she had when she had first learn Henry's secret. Yet, the assistant ME's interests in horror films and science fiction were allowing him to draw the natural conclusion.

Her heart started pounding. Lucas was almost completely unable to keep a secret. If his excitement overwhelmed him, Henry's immortality would be out to the entire group.

Fear for Henry re-energized Jo and propelled her into the water. With each stroke, she hoped that she would reach Lucas before he said something that Henry would regret.

A few strokes later, and her fingertips brushed the edge of the pool. She reached up, grabbed the ledge, and pulled herself into a standing position. She turned to Lucas. Gratefully, his posture in the water allowed her to see him eye-to-eye.

He jumped the second that he saw her and froze. Lucas turned white, and his mouth dropped open. Fear showed in his eyes, and his forehead became moist—and not from the water.

She lowered her voice and hissed, "If you utter one word, you had better hope that whatever you are thinking applies to you as well."

His surprised look lingered for a moment. Then, a look of recognition and excitement replaced it. He looked over her shoulder, and his eyes grew wide.

She then felt another pair of eyes on her. She slowly turned around and saw Henry. He looked terrified at the scene before him.

A cold chill surged through her, and she felt the need to flee the scene. The thought of Henry Morgan suddenly leaving New York and never returning in her lifetime entered her mind and wouldn't let go.

* * *

Jo sat on the steps near the handrail and looked into the swimming pool. The delicious smell of hamburgers and hot dogs filled the air, but her stomach churned. She should have never swum over to Lucas and warned him. If she hadn't, Henry might have had a chance to come up with a plausible explanation for his scar.

"May I join you?"

She looked up and saw Henry with a clear plastic cup in his hand. Unable to speak at that moment for fear of losing control of her emotions, she nodded.

He stepped down into the pool and sat beside her. He clutched the cup with both hands.

She looked at the cup's contents and finally found her voice. "Water?"

"I appreciate what Hanson is doing in providing the sodas, but—." One of his hands loosened its grip on the cup. He narrowed his eyes and gestured toward the offensive beverage. "That stuff tastes _awful_! Even the worst tasting beer is better than that junk! To make matters worse, Caleb Bradshaw and John Pembleton marketed it as a cure-all when it is nothing but a placebo!"

She stifled a chuckle. She hadn't seen him this curmudgeonly before.

She quickly sobered. _I will never see him again after today, and it's all my fault_. To keep her dismal thoughts from overwhelming her, she looked back into the water.

She swallowed, turned back toward him, and lowered her voice. "I'm sorry. I did _not_ mean to reveal your secret."

He looked into her eyes. Surprisingly, he wasn't angry with her. "I feel that I share some of the blame."

She stared at him. _Come on, Henry. This isn't the time for your chivalry._

He inhaled. "When Adam hand-delivered the photograph of Abigail and myself and the headlines from the subway crash, Lucas saw Adam's note saying 'Henry Morgan, QED'. In my terror and panic, I might have indicated that I was killed in the crash as well. It was only a matter of time before Lucas determined the truth."

Jo stared at him and then nodded. It didn't occur to her that Henry could have slipped around others too.

She looked back into the water. "Are you going to move now?"

The waves created by his shifting weight drew her attention back to him. Once again, he cradled his cup with both hands, and he solemnly and silently studied the water.

Finally, he broke his silence. "The difficult times _will_ come, but a move motivated by fear is not worth the dissolution of a priceless friendship." He turned to her and smiled. "I'm staying."

Her eyes widened, and joy started springing up in her. "That's great! I mean—."

His smile grew into a grin. He nodded. "I like my life here, and I don't want to lose what I have. That includes my friendship with you." He paused. "I'm glad that Abe had talked me out of moving to Belgium a year ago this month."

She couldn't believe her ears. She knew that he wasn't kidding when he had said that she was someone he deeply cared about. She just didn't realize exactly how much she meant to him.

She studied him. He turned back toward the water, stared into it, and held the cup between his hands. For someone who had just made a major life decision, he didn't seem as happy as he should. In fact, he appeared nervous about something. She hoped that he wasn't reconsidering his decision.

A few moments later, he turned back to her. "Since our time in the pool a few days ago, I've been thinking about taking up recreational swimming again. I believe that you had initially gone to the pool to relax. Others consider swimming to be a solitary sport, but…"

"Henry, you're lecturing."

He shut up and then inhaled. "If you decide to go to the pool in the future, would you mind if I join you when I'm there also? You can come over to our place for breakfast afterward. I'm sure that Abe wouldn't mind."

She stared at him. _That_ was what he was nervous about?

She thought for a moment. She had gone back to the pool a couple of days ago, but her time then wasn't as much fun as it was when Henry was there with her.

She smiled. "Of course, you can join me! It was kind of lonely without you a couple of days ago."

He first looked surprised and then grinned.

Lucas' voice caught Henry's attention. He turned to look at his assistant. Henry then drank his water like it was a shot of liquor. "Great! I might need to go to the pool Monday morning."

He didn't even need to tell her why. Henry would invite Lucas to his place tomorrow and spend their day off talking about his long life. Lucas' questions, theories, and pop culture references would drive Henry crazy, and Abe's own input wouldn't help matters. She reviewed her work schedule and planned to join him early Monday morning so that he could have someone to talk to.

Still, Henry looked rather agitated by the thought of what he had to do tomorrow. He needed to relax.

"Why wait?"

She slipped into the pool and stepped in front of him. He gave her a curious look, and, then, their eyes locked. In the next second, he set his cup onto the deck and stood up.

She moved back to let him in. As he stepped into the pool, she gently took his hands and pushed herself back. He slipped into the water and eagerly let her pull him toward the deep end.

She cocked her head. He had acted this way around her only once before—in the moments just before Mike had invited them to the party. What was going on? Both times, it was almost as if Henry was under a spell.

Still, she smiled as she watched his worry fade from his face and a sense of relaxation overtake him. There was no such thing as spells. Yet, there was such a thing as friendship. And that produced a special power of its own.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** In the last few paragraphs, friendship? Try more like **cough, cough** falling in love **cough, cough**. In my head canon, the last time that Henry acted that way around a woman was with Abigail. We see one instance of Abigail influencing him like that in "The Art of Murder".

In case you're wondering, Donnie and Matt's apology was their own. Neither Mike nor Karen prompted them.

I found the information about water polo on Wikipedia. As for Caleb Bradshaw and John Pembleton, they are the inventors of Pepsi and Coca-Cola, respectively.


End file.
